


Seven Days

by Lionsmane



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, Durincest, Healing Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, canine POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:50:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4287933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionsmane/pseuds/Lionsmane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year ago Fili left Ered Luin broken hearted because he'd caught his brother fondling a lass in a tavern.</p><p>He has come home to visit.  During Fili's year away Kili has done some soul searching, and has a new friend,</p><p>with a unique perspective.</p><p>This is a continuation of FiliKiliThorinforever's Chapter 6 (This Wall Between Us) from 22 Stories for turning 22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FiliKiliThorinForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/gifts).
  * Inspired by [FiliKiliThorinForevers 22 stories for turning 22](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029595) by [FiliKiliThorinForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/pseuds/FiliKiliThorinForever). 



> Okay, this is the weirdest POV I've ever tried. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I pictured an Irish Wolfhound as I wrote.

_Master is agitated._

_Feguz senses this in many ways. The dwarf who raised him from a pup possesses movements, sounds and a very distinct scent that are branded permanently in Feguz’ mind. Master moves lithely, like a cat. His hands are always warm and have always touched him with care, even when the dog knew Master was angry with him. The sounds he makes have a deeply soft but rich timber to them, like distant rolling thunder. But he can erupt, too, sparking into a high pitch as when a storm comes close. And Master’s scent...there is so much there to catalog that Feguz could never do it. He just knows. Master scent. He can tell dwarves from humans because dwarves carry a metallic, stone dusty scent while humans are more oily, like tall walking conglomerates of flaxseed, lard and corn stalks._

_But Master is special. He is coppery metals and earth, yes, especially on days when he works with those materials at the Shop. But he is also clover honey and pine nuts, quail feathers and river stones, Beech tree bark and sweet cream butter. Feguz can identify Master anywhere, even at a great distance, even if he were surrounded by a large crowd of dwarves in the Marketplace of Ered Luin. Feguz would simply follow that lovely scent and find him no matter where he was._

_But today is different. Something is Wrong._

_Ever since his first memories, distant and detached as they are, of Master holding him when his body was small, Feguz knew that the hard Leather Thing surrounding Master’s left wrist was a source of Stress. His dwarf pays a great deal of attention to it, especially at night. He has often wondered what lay under that piece of leather that is definitely not part of Master, but that seems to upset him so much. He has wanted to pull it off, and lick at the skin there to see what it tastes like. The scent coming from under the Thing is not good. It has the scent of flesh that is in need of air, sunlight, and clean water. And for the past few nights Feguz is certain he has sensed it pulsing…_

_But this morning had been good. Master had ruffled his head, which came up to Master’s waist now, and spoken many words including the word Hunt. Hunt is always good. They go into the forest and Feguz is free to r_ _ un because there are no fussy dwarves to bother or stands to knock over and he understands his role in Hunt very well. They go into the forest with an empty canvas bag, and come back with it filled with food because together he and Master are very good at Hunt. Master has a device that shoots long, thin sticks at Prey, and then Feguz goes to Get It. Even though he is still young, and his paws are large and clumsy, and his long legs and torso new to him, he can do this well. He runs ahead and pounces on the targets, and every rabbit, bird or other warm furry thing he brings to Master earns him a “Good Boy, Okay, Okay, Give, that’s it, Good Boy!” _

_He loves having his ears scratched._

_But they are headed back to the House now, and Master’s scent is different. Something bitter, alkaline, emanates from the moist webbing between his fingers, and the touch of the hand on his head is listless. He usually talks to Feguz as he walks with him, and Feguz doesn’t understand the words, but he always likes listening to Master’s voice. But Master is quiet tonight._

_They enter House together, and Feguz’s nose immediately flairs open. Female is Baking!_

_This is not usual. It only occurs when Guests are Coming._

_Feguz looks hopefully at Master. Master is usually as pleased about Female Baking as Feguz is. But Master’s scent and touch remain Stressed._

_Feguz moves timidly over to Female. He knows from experience that it is Bad to get in her way, or to be Underfoot when she is in the kitchen. It is very hard to resist, however. The scent of Baking is so strong and bready and sweet and Oh! she put sausage in them, and his great mouth waters and drips as he approaches, wondering if he could just get his nose up and into that metal tray pulsating with tasty smells on the counter that is right at the level of his mouth---_

_Female shrieks, there is a sharp Swat to his nose and Feguz scampers his huge body across the kitchen to his Place, his ears ringing and nerves lighting up with the additional loud clatter of the chair he knocks over on his way to the spot he knows they will send him anyway._

_“Kili, keep that dog out of my rolls!” Female has her hands on her hips and her brows are low over her eyes. Master lets out a long breath, kneels down and pushes Feguz’s head down onto the floor between his paws. “Stay, boy.” Master’s voice is firm, but flat._

_They will ignore him during the mealtime to come. That is one of the Rules_.

_But Feguz will not ignore them._

_He hears the footfalls of guests headed for the House long before Master or Female do. The knock on the Door is a sharp, bright red sound, but it is Master’s reaction that raises Feguz’s head. Heartbeat fast, breathing irregular, his right hand clenches around the Leather Thing on his wrist._

_Master opens the Door and Feguz has the very odd sensation that time slows down. Three people enter the House. One of them the dog knows well. He is not Feguz’s Master, but all of his senses have always identified this dwarf as a MASTER of Masters. Feguz’s tail curls downward and he takes any and all commands from this One because he simply has no choice._

_The second one is a stranger with golden hair who also emanates command. Someone else’s Master perhaps._

_But his own Master reacts to this golden haired one so intensely that Feguz’s body tenses. Master’s eyes are huge and bright, his lip and voice are trembling, and if he had a proper tail it would be wagging shamefully fast. The two exchange pats, like the nervous ones the merchants give each other in town before a deal is made. Their voices are high pitched and tremulous, and whatever their words are do not matter because their bodies tell Feguz everything._

_They are littermates. This does not necessarily signify anything. But it is a fact that comes to him clearly. The golden haired one is one of the the Female’s pups, same as his Master._

_Their scents blend together like biscuits and honey. Feguz sits up and licks at the air appreciatively. The pulses in their left wrists are in perfect synch._

_These two are both in full heat, and are in dire need of each other. This is so obvious to Feguz, and the solution so simple, that he does not understand what happens next at all._

_The third dwarf who enters is a slightly taller male Feguz has never seen before. He has dark hair, and his ears hear the name “Branig.” In a matter of moments Feguz senses that this new male represents no threat. His movements, voice and scent are completely submissive. This one must be the golden haired one’s Pet. No problem then. There will be no challenge to his Master’s needs._

_But Feguz is confounded by the cascade of changes that ripple out from his Master’s body in waves when the Pet called Branig enters and stands next to the Golden haired Master. His own Master's reaction is so drastic a whimper escapes his throat. His Master’s body stiffens, his heart slows, his skin goes white. Master’s scent alters so much, Feguz barely recognizes it._

_They all sit down around their eating table, and Female sets platters of food down as Master helps her. He can feel Master’s legs shaking through the wooden floorboards beneath him._

_Why would Master be so upset by another Master’s Pet?_

_Why not simply chase him out? Use one of those pointed sticks resting by the Door. It does not look like it would be too difficult. Feguz would be happy to help._

_The dwarves eat, and talk, and sometimes break into those explosions of sound that always seem threatening to Feguz, where their mouths are all open and teeth bared. It is considered a threat in his animal mind. But Feguz has learned to accept it as a Good thing._

_Tonight it is confusing though, for his Master is not joining in. Can a Good thing sometimes be a Bad thing?_

_The Pet seems to think it is Good as he reaches to stroke the golden haired one’s arm and clasps his hand possessively. That is very improper behavior for a Pet. Feguz growls deeply. Only Master hears him, turning to him, whispering “Good Dog.”_

_Female usually gives him something good from the table once they have finished eating. But when Master rises from his place and signals for Feguz to follow him out the back door he obeys._

_The great dog shivers as they move outside, Master doning a cloak and drawing the hood over his head. A wise precaution, because there has been a storm moving towards the village for some time now. Feguz could feel it in the air all through dinner. He wonders why they would go out in it._

_It only becomes more and more puzzling. This is not a Hunt. It is not a Walk either. They don’t go through town. Master does not carry anything with him, does not speak to him, does not signal him to stay close or that he may run free. He is moving as though he has lost all concern for himself. His head hangs down, shoulders slumped, and his feet stumble a bit. He is taking Feguz into the woods on one of their hunting paths, but he barely seems aware of where he is going._

_Feguz is becoming worried. Thunder rumbles in the distance and clouds billow over the moon as the wind blows violently at the tree branches above them. It really is not a good time to be outside. Master would be better off in his House by his Fire, eating Female’s Rolls. He does not know what else to do other than to walk close to Master and nudge gently at the hand that hangs limp at Master’s side. The hand touches him absently and Feguz shivers, because Master’s hand is cold. And not just cold…_

_Master has Rabbit Fear. His hands have the same feel, shiver and scent that Feguz senses from the rabbits that he sometimes chases and catches. It is the same sensation he gets from the small furred bodies just before his jaws break their necks and they go limp in his mouth._

_Master is no Rabbit. Master is not Prey. Master is a skilled Predator like himself. Master is his teacher and friend and companion, his source of safety, direction, and care. He is Good, and strong and always there for him. Master cannot be scared. If Master is scared, who will be strong?_

_It starts to rain._

_Feguz does not recognize this part of the forest. They have long ago left the path, and walk along the slope of a hill where enormous ancient oaks grow. Their enormous roots are as thick as their trunks and splay out on the ground, supporting the tall trees and sending more delicate roots down to find water. They’ll have no trouble tonight._

_Master falls to his knees. Feguz sits down in front of him, tipping his head, whining. Master usually likes it when he sits and waits for directions. But no directions come. The dwarf before him seems to be having trouble breathing, gasping for air, his shoulders heaving, His right hand clutches at the Leather Thing on his left wrist, and his hooded head still hangs low so Feguz cannot see his Master’s face. Trembling, the dog brings his hind quarters back up and carefully steps forward, sniffing, nuzzling gently under the hood, tasting Master’s skin and hair, flinching back and sneezing at the blue-black acrid bitterness of it, and whining again._

_And then Master emits a sound the great dog has never heard from him before. It comes from deep in the dwarf’s throat, and Feguz would call it a Hawk’s cry, or a Crow’s tirade, but this is not quite right. The sound is Despair. It is Absence of Hope. It is a Wish For Death. And it freezes the dog’s heart._

_Master throws himself down on one of the great roots, wrapping his arms around it and clutching tightly. His shoulders convulse, his cries are smaller but no less despairing, and seem to travel through his body in waves. Feguz sniffs and licks at his face, terrified, trying to keep his Fear under control with these small services. There are warm tracks of liquid coming from Master’s eyes that are as different from rainwater as syrup is from pitch. The warm trails of liquid contain the alkaline bitterness he’d sensed before. The poisons are leaving Master’s body and being washed away with the rain. This is Good, this has to be good._

_But Master’s warmth is leaving him as well. His body is growing colder and colder and the rain keeps coming down, and the water has penetrated his own fur and has reached his skin and he feels it drip down. Master’s cloak is just as waterlogged._

_It rains harder. Feguz can barely see the dark tree trunks only feet away from them, the air is so dense with water falling. And then the sky rumbles in the distance, the sky brightening and flashing momentary daylight around them as a white spidery line cracks above them._

_Master’s cries and shuddering increase, as though the storm inside him parallels the storm in the sky above their heads. Feguz’ heart races and he nudges at Master’s arms, nosing under them, trying to get him up. They must go Home! It is Bad here. It is Cold and wet here. They must return to House and Fire. They must not stay here. There is not enough warmth._

_But Master will not move._

_Feguz whimpers, groaning deep in his chest. But the storm in the sky and in his master swallow the sound._

_The dog nestles as close to the dwarf as he can, resting his great soft muzzle across the top of the shuddering body, giving as much warmth as he can, and hoping for comfort in return._


	2. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudoes, comments and bookmarks! I am honored this story seems to be pleasing people.
> 
> And thanks always to FiliKiliThorinForever for inspiring and encouraging me once once again. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing now from Kili's POV.

Warm panting breaths against his cheek wake him. If indeed, he was ever asleep. Kili is not certain.

  
The warmth contrasts with the utter cold that seems to penetrate to his core. His teeth are chattering. He can’t feel his arms. He isn’t sure where he is for a few minutes. It is very dark, he is lying face down on something hard and gritty, and a warm nose won’t seem to leave him alone.

  
He must move. He pushes upwards with his arms until he is sitting up. His eyes become accustomed to the darkness and he can make out the outlines of the trees, ground, and Feguz who paces nervously in front of him. He’s thankful for his dwarf eyes. Were he human he’d be unable to see at all in this blackness. The dog pushes his big head into his lap and Kili is grateful for his warm mouth on his hands, but he can feel Feguz’ fur is soaked and his companion is shivering. He must get them home.

  
_Home…_

  
And the memory of why he went for this walk in the first place hits him. _Fili is back home. He has another One. Everything Kili had wanted to say...it is too late._

  
He squeezes his eyes shut as though it would make these thoughts stop. His wrist pulses painfully and there is an answering pain somewhere in his chest that starts him hyperventilating. He hears Feguz whimpering, and some mechanism in him pushes the thoughts back, away deep in a hidden part of his mind, and he opens his eyes and begins to move.

  
Kili has no idea which direction to take, but luckily Feguz’ sense of direction seems to be sound. The dog trots ahead, woofing encouragingly, and then returns to Kili’s side and stays by him as the young dwarf makes his way unsteadily. Going is slow until Kili’s boots finally feel the path under them, and the canopy opens slightly. The moon emerges from behind clouds that roil and spin across the sky above them. It feels like a dream. Like they are walking through some dark mysterious tunnel of the underworld. His clothing is soaked and feels raw and heavy, and he keeps stumbling and catching hold of trees, clinging to them for a moment before Feguz nudges him and tugs him forward with his jaws closed carefully around his wrist until he moves again.

  
He does not think of anything but reaching Dis’ warm kitchen and its life giving fire.

  
By the time he sees the lantern burning distantly on their back porch he is fighting a drowsy warmth. The world condenses to that burning flame that draws him onward. The earth tips and sways the way it used to when he’d been out drinking too much. Some part of him finds that incredibly ironic.

He has the presence of mind to remove his boots and leave them outside, and he also hangs up his soaking wet cloak and grabs three dry logs from the sheltered wood pile. Feguz gives himself a great shake, and they enter the house. Kili goes straight to the fire and stirs the coals, feeding them some tinder and waiting for the smaller sticks to flame up before setting a large log carefully on top of them. Feguz stays close the whole time, his head drooping and his body shivering, leaning against him slightly.

  
Kili rips off his own tunic and drapes it quickly near the fire, then grabs some old rags and begins rubbing his dog down from head to tail.

  
“Poor Feg. Sorry I put you through that.” He whispers, his own voice still trembling. Once Feguz is at least not dripping anymore the great dog flops onto his side with his feet and chest facing the warming fire and emits an enormous sigh. Kili pulls off his braies with difficulty, the soaked fabric sticking to his skin. He hangs them up next to his tunic and gets one of the furs draped over one of the old armchairs and wraps it around himself before sitting back down close to Feguz to allow the fire to dry him and warm him.

  
With nothing left to do but stroke Feguz’ ears and wait for his body to stop shivering, Kili is faced with his traveling thoughts again, and struggles to turn them off. He watches the flames in the fire, follows the dancing motion of one red demon at the end of a slender branch as it rises and falls. His hand reaches reflexively for the archery wrist guard encircling his left wrist and tightens the buckles on it. He hasn’t loosened it or looked under it since he put it on almost a year ago. He isn’t about to start now. His lids grow heavy and he rests his head on his knees...

  
The scrape and dull thunk of a new log being set onto the fire wakes him. Feguz snores softly beside him. Pale coldness fills the room and his mother’s hands are under his arms urging him to his feet. He goes up to his bed without protest and falls quickly back into sleep.

  
\-------------------------------------------  
Day 1

  
Kili does not ever remember having this bad of a hangover. What the hell had he been drinking? Where had he been? Who’d he been with? Bofur and Bombur perhaps? He groans and sits up. Everything aches and Aule himself is hammering at his temple and something has surely died in his mouth. Why are there so many covers on him? His foot touches a now cold bed warming pan under the furs by his feet.

  
Uughhhoohh. Now it comes back to him.

  
His breath catches at the flare of pain that shoots around his gut as he remembers. Mahal it is like standing at the edge of a cliff looking down and knowing it is only a matter of moments before you will fall.

  
He sits hunched over for a while. The sun shines through the window shutters, dappling the furs with spots of warmth. He watches one move a tiny distance before his body’s needs finally force him to get up.

  
As he walks stiffly down stairs he hears voices in the kitchen, low, hissed. He sighs. His Uncle is probably down there talking to his mother. About him. Again.

  
But a great hand squeezes his heart when he sees blond hair and not black sitting opposite Dis, huddled low over cups of morning tea. Feguz thumps his tail at him from the floor by Dis’ feet.

  
They look up as he sees them. _Fili_. Kili searches the rest of the room, his heart thudding. _Noone else_. He looks back at them, not able to focus. _too much._

  
He nods at them and mumbles an “excuse me” before ducking out the back door towards the out house. Feguz jumps up and follows him.

When he returns his mother is setting a place for him. “Headed for the shop today, then?"

Thank Mahal. A question he can answer. "Yes." Avoiding the blue eyes he knows are looking at him he sits down and curls his hands around the cup of tea Dis offers him, sipping at it just to have something to do. Feguz curls warmly around his feet and and sighs contentedly.

Kili manages some basic conversation, all while keeping his eyes down, staring into the tea, into the warm bowl of oatmeal Dis serves him, into the veins and grooves of the wooden surface of the table.

He doesn't see or feel Dis pull a small twig from his hair and hold it up behind him for Fili to see, her eyes wide and full of meaning.

Fili speaks to him comfortably, as though he's only been gone a few days rather than a year, as though all is well, and nothing painful has passed between them at all. Kili's head is spinning so much from processing that Fili is here at all that he doesn't really think too deeply about what he sounds like, or what he says. His brother's voice soothes him, and scares him, at the same time.

He finds out in the next tense 20 minutes that Fili is staying at Bombur's Tavern, that Bombur's new baby girl, Frea, is adorable and close to walking, that Bombur's wife was very annoyed when Nori brought in a great deal of dirt when they'd arrived because he'd neglected to wipe his boots off before coming in the door, and that won't do on a floor with younglings perambulating across it at drooling level, will it? And Thorin wants Fili here in Ered Luin for this next week to give him an accounting of the neighboring dwarf clans, so Fili will be here for the next seven days,

Oh, and Nori and Branig have traveled on to Bree to do some trading with a group of men, there, so they will not be here to share any more of their travel stories, unfortunately.

Kili blinks at Fili over a spoonful of oatmeal, swallowing it down even though he isn't really hungry. It's the first time since he came downstairs that he's looked his brother in the face. Fili looks back at him openly. Kili's gaze flits down to Fili's wrist, and the strip of soft leather tied around it.

"So you are here for a week on your own?"

"Aye. I was hoping you and I could spend some time together while I'm here."

Fili really could not have surprised Kili more if he had sprouted antlers.

"You...um... time together...?"

 

"Yes." Fili's eyes are wide and blue. Concern furrows his brow. "Is that all right?"

Kili finds himself nodding spastically. "Yeah. Sure. Fine."

His brother smiles and Kili melts.

"Ok then. I'm meeting with Thorin this morning. Would it be all right if I came by the shop around 1:00? I'd like to see what you've been up to and there are a few small items of my own I need to repair."

"1:00. Good."

Fili stands to leave, nodding to Dis. "We can stop by the market for you on our way back here, Amad."

Dis is holding her cup in both hands, and stroking Feguz under the table absently with her foot. It occurs to Kili that this is unusual, her showing affection to his big dog who is more often irritating her than ingratiating himself to her. Feguz seems pleased with the attention and groans appreciatively.

"I'll give Kili a list before he leaves. You're welcome to eat here tonight."

She takes a piece of bacon from the plate in the center of the table and slips it down To Fezug, who gobbles it down eagerly.

His mother is giving his dog treats at the table.

His brother, after introducing him to his new One the night before, wants to spend an entire week just with him.

Kili is seriously beginning to wonder if his sureal walk during the storm last night has deposited him in some alternate universe. What can he expect next? Thorin dancing through the alfalfa field making daisy chains?

Something is going on. And then a horrible thought occurs to him. Is this some kind of conspiratorial joke?

_Mahal, are they laughing at him?_

There is gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "So I'll see you at the shop later, Kili?" He looks up at Fili sharply. But his brother's expression is calm, serious. There is no mirthful twinkle there. In fact faint dark circles lie under Fili's eyes, which seem to search Kili's features as closely as Kili searches his.

  
Kili's heart quickens. He is no closer to understanding any of this but his mind spins to a stop on the matter. He'll take things at face value for now.

"Aye." Kili nods. Fili pats his shoulder firmly and smiles, taking his leave.


	3. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The completion of day 1, and then day 2, from Kili's POV.

They needed more firewood in the house, so Kili finds himself splitting logs in the backyard by the edge of the woods the next morning. The air blows cool against his face as his arms swing the axe, his mind going back over the previous day as he works at the pleasantly mindless task.

He hadn’t been certain whether he’d been looking forward to seeing Fili at the shop or not. He still couldn’t quite believe his brother had been there at all that morning, let alone promise to spend time with him this week. Kili actually wonders if he’d imagined it.

At the shop yesterday, as the time Fili had promised to arrive had drawn near, Kili’s nerves had him pacing around, dropping tools and tugging at his hair until Gral, the forgesmith with whom he shared the shop fairly ordered him to settle down and do some braiding. Kili had sighed and obliged. Gral handled most of the metal work while Kili specialized in woodwork and leather. Kili’s hands were well suited for the more detailed movements needed to weave small strands of leather together into strong cords used to fashion handles or other attachments for metal implements.

So Kili’s fingers had taken up their twisting and turning pattern,and just as he was beginning to relax, at exactly 1:00, Fili had walked into the shop.

It hadn’t been as nerve wracking as Kili had feared it would be. His brother had greeted him and Gral with an easy smile, catching up briefly with his old mentor about how business was going.

Kili couldn’t stop staring, his hands going still on his work at the sight of his brother, newly back from a year on the road. He’d gotten lost for a moment in the smooth golden braid that swayed back and forth against Fili’s lightly stubbled jaw as he spoke, and then found himself gazing at the fine blond hairs in his eyebrows that seem almost bleached compared to the tanned skin of Fili’s now well weathered face. Fili’s voice and gestures as he’d spoken to them and moved around the forge he’d known so well invoke such confidence. He’d gained something during months of talking and entreating with other dwarf clans in Thorin’s name and in the hope of gaining support for a quest to reclaim Erebor. It all looked so good on him. His brother glowed with self assurance now.

  
It gives Kili a warm feeling, but at the same time it tears his heart down another notch. He wonders how much of this glow comes from the freedom of the road, and how much from the solace of a new love.

And then Fili’s hand had squeezed his shoulder and asked for his help with some worn and torn areas of the leather saddle and satchels on his pony. They’d walked outside to where Fili’s mount, Sadie, was tethered close to the shaded patch of ground where Feguz stretched lazily whenever Kili came to the shop. Kili had immersed himself in the inspection of Fili’s gear, finding the worn areas and detaching the saddle bags to bring them inside. But the saddle itself seemed wrong. Not a good fit for Sadie. Too large. He tells Fili this, and his brother nods, admitting that the saddle was crafted by men, who do not seem to be able to make dwarf sized gear with much competence. Kili had lept at the opportunity, quickly offered to make him a new one, promising it would be a better fit and would be ready before he needed to leave again, and that he’d gladly cover the cost. They had squabbled good naturedly for a few minutes, Fili saying _no it’s too much_ , and Kili insisting, already pulling out measuring leathers and wrapping them around Sadie’s girth, _Please, Fili, let it be my gift._

So Fili had relented. It is the closest Kili has gotten to apologizing so far.

They had spent the rest of the afternoon inside the shop, Fili re acquainting himself with his forging skills and busying himself with replacing some small items he needed. Kili methodically repaired every rip and tear in Fili’s saddle bags and then began the outlining and cutting of a new saddle using the finest piece of leather he can find. Fili and Gral had talked happily about old times, and it was a relief to occupy this space with his brother without having to interact too directly with him, and so good to be doing something for Fili, some service, even if small.

He has so much to make up for.

Now as he swings the axe he wonders if the time will ever come where he could apologize properly to his brother, because it seems for all the world that whatever Fili’s thoughts may be, he is not suffering. Fili seems content, settled into a new life. So just coming out and re opening the events of a year ago would seem innappropriate now, even cruel.

He swings the axe harder. Right. So this is all platonic. A friendly visit from his brother. Fili is over him, as Kili had first thought. And all of Fili’s words and actions seem to confirm this.

But Kili can’t help thinking, remembering his impressions from last night’s dinner after their long afternoon in the shop, that there is something in Fili’s eyes that says otherwise. He seems to be searching for something…

And last night, at the end of their meal with Dis, Fili had asked Kili if he’d accompany him on a hike to the Great Oak in the morning. They had agreed to meet here at the tenth bell, and Fili had patted Kili’s shoulder and smiled, saying “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Sleep well.”

And now as Kili finishes piling the last log on the wood pile, as the tower bell rings for the tenth time, Fili appears in the backyard doorway, pack and canteen in hand.

“Ready?”

\--------------------------------------

They both know this trail well. It grows smaller and becomes a game trail as it slants upwards to the north, the top of the Oak they seek appearing as their elevation increases. Kili has his bow and arrows with him, just in case, and Feguz bounds in happy circles around them.

Fili ambles and converses easily next to him, asking about Feguz.

“I found him by the side of the river soon after--I mean some months ago.” says Kili, “He was just a whimpering ball of fur, already half dead from cold. My guess is he’d been part of a litter someone had tried to drown.” Feguz seems to know they are speaking of him and comes close to Kili, who scratches his ears affectionately. “I couldn’t resist picking him up. Amad wasn’t too happy, at first. She was sure he’d get into our food or mess up her floors or ruin the furniture. But she took a softer line once I started to bring home three times more game than I ever could before.” Kili keeps his eyes forward, hoping very much he did not just give Fili the impression that he’d been able to replace him with a puppy.

But Fili seems genuinely interested. “That right? You selling the extra meat then?”

“Yeah, it helps a lot. Plus I’m getting good income from the arrows I’m making.”

“You’re making extra arrows?”

“I built a hutch with a mini forge in our woods out back. They aren’t much in demand by dwarves, but many men have begun to buy from me. I’ve even had a ranger seek me out.”

Fili looks up from his boots at this. “A ranger?” he says, “What was his name?”

“Crebain, I think it was.”

Fili frowns. “How much did he give you per arrow?”

“The going rate in town is 3 farthings each, so that’s what I got from him.”

Fili nods, looking pensive. Kili’s mouth quirks.

“What is it, oh brother of the world, have I been had?”

Fili shakes his head. “No, but I’ve seen what the weapon markets look like, and your arrows are of higher quality than anything men or rangers would find anywhere else. The Dunedain can certainly afford to pay a fair price for their arrows, and Crebain should have recognized that yours commanded as high a price as any Elven made shafts.” He nods to Kili, “Don’t take less than 6 farthings per arrow next time. Your work deserves that much.”

Fili continues up the trail. Kili stares after him, speechless.

It had been a very long time since Kili had been to the Great Oak. They had climbed it as younglings, of course. It was a right of passage for all young dwarves. They both remember that day well. Racing to the large notch near the top of the Oak (above this point the branches became too fine to support most dwarves’ body weight) was discouraged, of course. But everyone did it. But it had been years since then.

Kili can’t help grinning at the memory.

“Ready to redeem yourself then?”

“We’ve been over this before.”

“So you admit that you lost?”

  
“Do you admit that you cheated?”

They divest themselves of their weapons and day packs, set their hands on the crags of the ancient trees’ bark, and begin climbing on a silently agreed upon signal.

“I did not. I won fair and square.”

“You chucked a wasp nest at me.”

“I got stung as much as you did, you big baby.”

Feguz stresses some distance beneath them, circling and barking plaintively.

“I was winning. I was ahead of you until you threw that thing at me.”

“Whiner.”

Kili had been 23 and Fili had been 26. They were still innocent then. They knew they were marked for each other, but they understood no more meaning from that than an eternal togetherness consisting of the comfort and familiarity of each other’s company, like the river otters that played carelessly regardless of the passing of seasons or other serious matters. They knew each other’s scents, the feel of each other’s warm skin beneath the clothing they wore, the noises each made during sleep. Kili had only been beginning to notice that Fili’s body was developing, his baby fat melting away and being replaced by harder muscle layers as they began the weapons training required of them.

_They had not kissed yet, the last time they had climbed this tree._

But now that Kili thinks about it, the reason he had fallen behind Fili during that climb had involved his sudden and rather distractingly new appreciation of Fili’s shapely legs and arse as his body stretched and reached for branches just above him. In fact the wasp nest had completely surprised him and he had reacted without thinking, grasping it and reflexively tossing it away from his own face, not actually having meant it to hit his brother.

In any case, no wasp nest presents itself today and Kili realizes to his horror that he is letting his thoughts distract him again, and he pulls himself back into the demanding climb.

They grasp at branches opportunistically, their bodies older and stronger than the last time. The great trunk of the oak has a vast circumference and they could easily lose each other if they shifted to climb on opposite sides of it, but just as they did as younglings, they race upwards side by side, aware of each other’s heat, effort and gleeful side glances.

Until Kili thinks for a moment about his strategy.

The context of his current situation with his brother begs deeper consideration than he is used to lending to a simple physical contest.

_Does it really further his suit if he beats Fili to top of this tree?_

Ah, no. It doesn’t.

The thought lends a heaviness to his limbs and when he thinks a bit further to the last time his arms were wrapped around a gritty wooden parcel of nature, and then further recalls the context of that, he slows even more.

To his amazement, he notes peripherally that Fili has not, in fact, pulled ahead of him.

He stops a moment, turning his head warily to look at his brother, who is looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

“Are you all right?”

“Um, yeah.” stammers Kili, seeking some explanation, anything other than the actual thoughts in his head, and at that moment Feguz obliges him by sending a mournful howl upwards, poignantly expressing his canine opinion of being left on the ground below. Kili grasps at the excuse.“I was just a little worried about Feg. He’s probably in need of some water about now.”

They both look down at the dog, who although is very large in person, looks very small from their current position, but who still seems to perceive their attention and they can just make out his tail flailing back and forth.

They look back at each other. Fili’s mouth curves slightly, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit, before something else seems to pass over him and his face softens. His sits back carefully on the branch near his legs, and turns his head to look out at the landscape now visible from their height. Kili follows his lead, and in a quietly agreed upon truce they situate themselves more comfortably and drink in the experience of sitting higher than the forest treetops surrounding them, able to see the peaks of the Blue Mountains, enjoy the piercing blueness of the sky, and feel the sun on their faces.

“Shall we call it a draw then?”

“All right with me.”

They begin to descend.


	4. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another update! Sorry for the wait.

When Fili had said “early”, he had, apparently, really meant it.

Kili sits up groggily, pulling the furs around his bare waist, blinking at the wooden tray of breakfast whose weight settles onto his lap as Fili places it there. His brother lights an oil lamp on his bedside table with a glowing splint from the kitchen fire, a necessary thing since the sun has yet to rise and it is still pitch black.

Although, Kili can hear the irritating beginnings of birdsong, and there is a pale glow outlining the branches of the tree outside his window.

Fili settles himself opposite him and reaches for one of two mugs of hot tea. “I passed through the Shire a few weeks ago and it happened to be their market day,” he says, far too brightly for such an ungodly hour, “We already ate most of the food we bought there. Those hobbits are the most amazing creatures when it comes to gardening and baking. But I saved this jar of gooseberry preserves for you. Try it on one of Amad’s rolls. It’s incredible.”

Kili stretches and yawns, careful not to tip the contents of the tray onto his sleeping furs. He scratches randomly at a bare shoulder before fumbling for a roll and tearing it open, then follows Fili’s example and spoons the thick contents of the preserve jar into the crevices of the bread. The experience of sinking his teeth into it is finally enough to waken him, as the tartly sweet flavor of the Hobbit jam explodes on his tongue as though someone has emptied sunlight into his mouth.

“Mahal…” he mumbles with his mouth full, his eyes widening at Fili.

Fili’s face breaks into a pleased grin. “Told you didn’t I?”

“Is all the hobbit food like this?” says Kili, before stuffing the rest of the half roll completely into his mouth.

“From what we sampled, yes. I’m seriously considering persuading Uncle to include hobbits on our Journey so we can at least eat well.”

Kili nods vigorously and reaches for another roll.

After they’ve eaten their fill Fili takes the tray away. Kili slides out of bed reluctantly putting his bare feet down onto the cold floorboards, and pulls into a tunic and pair of braies before following Fili downstairs.

\-------------------------------------

_The golden Master’s hands feel smooth and kind, like his own Master’s, and have the added advantage of tasting like gooseberry jam. Feguz happily accepts the scratches to his head, and catalogs the timber of the voice that speaks gently to him, which is just slightly higher pitched than his Master’s. He is even more pleased when the golden Master reaches into a pocket and pulls out a Treat with a most lovely aroma, and offers it to him._

_And he is quite relieved that there is no sign of that annoying Pet._

_As he trots beside the two Masters in the early light of dawn, Feguz’ sensitive muzzle brushes against the golden Master’s pocket and he becomes quite certain that there are at least two more Treats in there just like the last one._

_They make their way to the big River. For reasons Feguz does not quite understand, this place frightens him. But the dwarves seem confident as they set their baskets against their hips and fiddle with the ends of long sticks, stepping into the rushing water and casting lines far out across the ripples. Feguz remains on shore. Again Master is going where he cannot follow as he’d done yesterday. He had fretted so much at the base of that huge tree, certain of Danger threatening his dwarf, despairing as Master had disapeared up into the great tree branches without him. But Master had returned safely, and had not seemed stressed._

_Master has never brought the dog here to the River and Feguz is a bit puzzled. They Hunt. They go to the Shop, or the Market. “Fish” is new. The great dog watches curiously, wondering what the purpose of this activity might be. He does not see any Prey out there. Are there rabbits in the water? He gingerly approaches the edge, dipping his paws in and shivering at the cold, wet of it. The masters seem to go into it quite willingly so there must be something out there they want._

_Feguz shrugs mentally. The tree climbing yesterday had made no sense to him either._

_But suddenly the golden master shouts and seems to struggle with his stick, which curves downwards as though something out in the water is pulling on it. Feguz goes on high alert, all four feet under him, ears pricked fully forwards. The dwarf is pulling on the line and backing up into shallower water, and something is wriggling and fluttering in the water, coming closer and closer to them. Prey??? or is a Predator???! In the River??? River Prey??? But it looks like a Snake!!_

_Feguz bounds back and forth at the edge of the water, his heart pounding, scared, excited and desperately curious all at the same time, but before he can bring himself to decide on some course of action for his quivering, conflicted skeletal muscles the golden master pivots the stick and a silvery, fluttering object rises from the water, and then abruptly disappears into the basket at the dwarf’s side._

_His own Master’s mouth is wide open and that musical sound is coming from it in between words he speaks to the other dwarf. Strange, that sound. He has heard it from others fairly often, but only recently from Master. Dwarves emit many noises, and Feguz has learned to distinguish the deep sounds that come from their chests. Sometimes they contain anger or irritation, and sometimes the sounds are… the only comparison Feguz really has is that it is as though they are sounds he himself would make if he was on his back having his belly rubbed in just the right spot while receiving a bacon treat all at the same time._

_He settles down again as the Masters return to their fishing. Soon after, his own master pulls in one of the silvery water rabbits, and then soon after that the golden Master brings another one towards him and they both begin to fill their baskets. Feguz’s great head is down and his hind quarters are up, his entire back end wagging with both excitement and misery that burbles up out of his throat in pitiful whines. He wants to help. So much. He wants to bound into the cold wet flowing water and nudge against both of them, and perform his trained task of retrieving those Prey for his Master that look so interesting and different but his heart thuds. It is so unfamiliar, and deeply unsettling. An old fear inside him blocks him and conflicts so sharply with his need to serve and run and Get!_

_And then the Golden Master lets out a great shout. The silvery Prey that he is pulling through the ripples towards him displaces a large amount of water, the biggest one yet! It is a huge wriggling lump in the water that is still far out, but coming closer, closer…_

_And the dog’s instincts finally overcome his fear. Feguz leaps forward, splashing through the water, focused on the Prey, the depth deepening as he nears it impeding his progress only slightly due to his single-minded determination, his senses so intensely directed that he does not hear his Master’s voice shouting as he finally reaches the wriggling Prey and plunges his open jaws downward to subdue it and claim it._

_But all he seems to bite is water, and the surface of this water rabbit is strange. There’s no fur. Its surface slips away from his seeking teeth even when he plunges his head down in the river after it to corner it against the ground the way he would do in the woods. He leaps up in frustration and pounces downward with his paws but it wriggles out from under them. He tries again and again, as the strange prey moves under the water and he pounces with his teeth bared and claws out, tail wagging furiously at the challenge._

_He is only vaguely aware of the golden Master’s attempts to push against him and the voice shouting at him, and his own Master’s voice continuously making that musical belly scratch sound behind him. He senses a basket come down into the water near the Prey just as he almost has a hold of it with his mouth. The Prey slips away again, its tail smacking against his muzzle several times, and he feels the Master’s body bump his as the basket swoops after the retreating slimey rabbit, but it escapes the basket as well and in their frustration to retrieve it, both dog and dwarf irreparably lose their balance on the river stones and completely go under the water together with a short cry and a yip._

_When he emerges the large Prey is gone, and his Master is offering his hand to the golden one who sits in the river staring up at him darkly, the water lapping around his neck. His basket of prey has been overturned and the ones he’d already caught float nearby, slowly drifting downstream. Feguz moves to one of them warily and snatches at it, and feels a small victory at its apparent submission to him. He sinks his teeth into its strange, smooth hide and turns back to his Master only to hear a great splash and see him pulled down into the water with the golden Master, and now they are both soaked, and making those happy sounds with their mouths wide open and teeth flashing white, and when Feguz comes over to them with his offering of Prey their sounds only come louder._

\-----------

The fire they’d built in the sand by the river crackles each time oils from the fish suspended above it drop into the flames. The sun is high in the sky now, and thankfully warm against the bare skin of Kili’s back and shoulders. They’d spread their wet clothes onto the surface of a large nearby rock and sit in their smalls by the warming fire, cleaning the fish they’d managed to salvage from their watery debacle. Feguz hunkers in a moist heap a few feet from Kili, his head down and looking very sheepish. Kili tries to focus on his task, speaking about anything and everything except what truly occupies his mind.

Fili’s damp hair looks darker than it does when dry, and glints in the sunshine with reddish tints in the silky ends that curl against his muscled shoulders and collarbone. Kili’s eyes can’t keep from tracing the curve of his torso as drops of water from his hair travel down through the down of chest chair, rippling over taut stomach muscles, dipping in and out of a smooth knotted belly button and then disapearing into the fabric around his hips.

And when Fili stands up to walk to the river’s edge, and kneels down to clean out the fish and then proceeds to rinse his own arms and legs off of the residual sand that had stuck to him, his hands rubbing down the muscular curves of thighs and calves, while his beautiful backside angles innocently upwards…

  
Mahal save him.

Kili is grateful that his mother had used fairly thick, coarse fabric when she had sewn the smalls he wears today. It proves helpful in hiding the real difficulty developing down there. He has grown so hard he can barely concentrate on the banal conversation they are having about trade routes, and human vs dwarven behaviors on the road, and the best place to go to purchase rune stones.

But even with everything he must suppress, it is so good to be with Fili. He has missed him so desperately. Fili smiles, and shares things with him, and listens to him, and teases him about his big clumsy dog, but then scratches Feguz with affection and lets him have the last two treats (now a bit soggy) from his pocket which the dog accepts gratefully. And they eat the cooked fish which tastes delicious in the fresh air by the mountain river.

And Kili remembers other fishing trips they’d taken as boys. They had been considered very odd for it, he knows. Dwarves did not fish with rods; Fili and Kili had learned that from watching Men. If dwarves sought fish at all they used large nets or traps. But Fili and Kili had been fascinated by the rod method and the challenge of catching fish one at a time, one battle at a time, so every once in a while they did it for the fun of it. Once they had come of age, and once their relationship with each other had become serious, they had stopped going fishing.

Except for that one time.

The memory washes over Kili in a bittersweet wave. How could he have forgotten it?

_We should go fishing. We haven’t in a while. You have a day off tommorrow and you need a break so badly, Fili, I can see it. Your shoulders are going to buckle if you forge one more hunk of metal. Please, Fili? Come with me?_

So they had gone early the next day with their rods and baskets, not here to this beach but one much further on because they wanted to be alone, and they had caught a fine number, and eaten a few, but not that much because they hadn’t been that interested in food that day. And when Kili had spread out a soft blanket and pulled Fili down onto it with him his brother had melted into his body with complete relief. Kili had taken pleasure from working every stressed knot and tight tendon of his brother’s body loose until Fili moaned bonelessly under him even though they’d still been fully clothed. Once their clothes were off, he loved nuzzling into the dip in Fili’s throat where his collarbones met, and feeling Fili’s hands lifting his hair and caressing his scalp, and the feeling of Fili’s warm skin against his, and his body so pliant under him because he'd trusted Kili…

He'd trusted Kili.

He casts his eyes down into the tin plate in his lap, the piece of fish in his mouth suddenly taking on the quality of old leather. He only belatedly realizes that Fili is speaking to him.

“Kili?”

Kili’s head spins a little as he looks up. Something warm and dry is being placed by his side, and large blue eyes are looking at him.

“These are dry now. You looked like you were getting cold.” Fili’s touch on his shoulder creates more goosebumps than it relieves.

“Um, yes. Thanks.”  
\-------------------------------------

Kili needs to spend the afternoon at the shop, but before he goes there he retreats to his house and his bedroom. No one is home. He buries himself in the furs and opens his clothing to touch himself. It takes him no time at all, a breathless, heartbreaking few minutes of whispering Fili’s name, grasping frantically at his pulsing shaft, and longing desperately for the power to travel backwards in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this a slow burn, and if you know anything about me you know things are going to get worse before they get better. Writing about characters as lovable as these who so consistently misunderstand each other is just too big of a temptation for me to withstand.
> 
> So apologies if you feel frustrated but I hope you still enjoy the ride in the long run :)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks always to FiliKiliThorinForever for the original inspiration of this fic. Go check out "Be Careful What you Wish For" on FKTK's site. It's good!


	5. Day 4

_The ponies are trotting, and Feguz lopes along beside them in an easy canter, his head and hind quarters oscillating up and down, his tongue lolling out of his mouth happily. Sadie, the Golden Master’s pony, seems comfortable with the gate and has energy to spare a few curious sniffs at the great dog brushing against her flanks. Misty, Master’s pony, is less pleased and snorts a warning at Feguz when he bumps her leg with his head accidentally._

_The two Masters share fluid conversation across Feguz’ head, which dances along just beneath the ponies muzzles. Their voices are smooth stones skipping across water, nourishing oil sinking into raw leather, birdsong radiating across the dawn._

_Each day his Master spends with this Golden one seems to do him good. Master’s heart beats more steadily, his scent has lost that acrid bitterness Feguz sensed a few days ago, his touch has softened, his breathing loosened. When these two are together the dog has a sense that Things are Well, that all is As It Should Be. Their bodies lean towards each other constantly, their voices are speaking ordinary words but Feguz hears nothing but gentle crooning as though each were mothering an injured pup. Their scents mingle into one lovely being, alive and pulsing, swirling around him in huge capital letters spelling out YES, GOOD BOYS, and YOU’VE EARNED A TREAT._

_So why do they not come closer to each other and acknowledge each others’ obvious needs?_

_He’d thought it might happen yesterday. On that pebbly beach. Their natural skins free of the strange woven clothing they usually wore, and both of them radiating mating scents into the air like lightning bolts. Their eyes kept looking, he saw it, and their bodies showed signs of attending to each other, but they never touched._

_Strange dwarves._

_The pace quickens, and abruptly they turn off the road they had been on and into an open field of tall grasses and wildflowers. Sadie gallops ahead joyfully, Misty snorting to catch up, and Feguz sprints ahead of them all, unmindful of the coarse plants that scrub at his undercarriage as he runs. He rarely gets the opportunity to gallop through fields like this. He turns back to make certain the Masters follow. Both pony and dwarf manes billow in the wind and both Masters wear determined but playful expressions, leaning forward in their saddles, urging their mounts onward. The Golden Master gives a triumphant yell as he leaps Sadie over a small abandoned fence at the bottom of the field, Misty following after._

_They are making that belly scratch sound again as they dismount. Feguz noses at them both, checking, nuzzling, enjoying their happiness, receiving their attentions to his ears and head._

_They walk the rest of the short way into Market._

_The Market contains many “NO’s” for Feguz. The dog has learned many a hard lesson in this place, and he enters the boundary of the merchants with some trepidation. The ponies wait for them back in a common tethering area, but Feguz is tolerated so long as he does not sniff at things, lick at things, bump against things, step on things, knock things over, drool on things, bark at things, get tangled up in things, jump over things, crawl under things, rest his head on things, lie down on things or do anything to ANY THING unless it is the plain dirt beneath his humble enormous paws._

_It has been long enough since his last Mistake that his Master seems willing to bring him along this time, though Feguz sees the hand signal over his nose, and hears the ‘Feguz Heel’ command loud and clear as they move up to the first few stalls._

_All is relaxed and well for a time. Feguz always falters a bit at the dried sausage table, but although his stomach growls and he drools, these behaviors go ignored by the merchants and they move on without incident. The Masters haggle lightly with a few merchants, filling their sac with wares until they come to a table of dyed textiles,_

_and suddenly Panic fills the air._

_Feguz whimpers, sitting down and wrapping his tail around himself, convinced he has knocked something over with it accidentally. Master radiates stress and irritation. In fact, both Masters do. Their hearts race, their brows have lowered, and their hands grip at their bags and belts. But they aren’t looking at Feguz at all._

\-----------------------------------------------

Aza. Of all the times to run into her.

Kili hasn’t seen her for months. He’d heard that her family had moved further north, but here she was, smiling coyly at him, her bust barely held in by a tightly brocaded bodice and her hand fisted provocatively into a shapely hip. She lilts at him musically.

“Well, Kili! It has been an age!”

He stiffens, purposefully not looking at Fili, dutifully taking the lass’ hand and bowing correctly over it.

“Aza. How does your family?”

He doesn’t have to look at Fili to know his brother has gone stonefaced, that all the pleasant feelings of the day, of the week, perhaps of a lifetime, have been ruined.

It’s her. The one Fili had seen him with in the tavern a year ago. And there is nothing Kili can do, nothing he can say to prevent the wave of that painful memory from sickening them both. He’d only known her for a brief time, and only because her brother frequented the same archery range as Kili. But she had been a good prospect at the time, had not been clingy, had never expected any more of him than the one night he had spent with her. She had never known his reasons for the experience, and Aza could have no idea she is causing any discomfort at this moment. She has no idea she was the means of such betrayal between them. Of course she wouldn’t. No one would. Their bond was never announced, so how could anyone know he was being untrue to it?

Aza curtsies innocently to Fili, nodding to him in polite greeting as she continues to speak to Kili.

“They are well enough. We returned here last week. Da couldn’t make a go of the sheep herd in the north. Fields too sparse. So we’ve come back here to the cloth colorin’ business. Yer Ma need some fine threads? We have a good pure blue here I know you Durins like!” She bats her eyelashes at them and Kili feels nauseous.

But he forges onward, asking for the plain linen Dis had asked them to buy, not even haggling the price, trying to keep it all business.

But the lass has no subtlety.

“Ben hopin’ to see ya down at the tavern, again, Kili. Word is yeh’v made yerself scarce.” And the wretched girl turns to Fili. “You should come, too. There’s plenty of ale and company fer all.” Kili chances a glance at his brother. Fili’s eyes bore into Aza like poisonous diamond drills and yet she reacts as though believing his gaze to be flirtatious, her brows raising and eyes sparkling and widening at the golden haired Prince, “I’m surprised yeh never brung him before, Kili! Maybe too much competition fer yeh, eh?”

Truly, Kili wonders how he could ever have been attracted to someone so completely clueless.

Kili finishes the transaction quickly, nodding and saying their firm goodbyes, turning to see Fili staulking away towards the ponies, his shoulders and head ramrod straight, his bearing ice cold.

Kili runs to catch up, his stomach clenching, thinking he must say something but terrified it will be the wrong thing.

Fili beats him to it.

“Aza. Good name for her.”

“I have not seen her again since that night, Fili.” Kili breathes this out from deep in his core, willing Fili to hear how true each word is and how much feeling goes with it. “I have not been to that tavern since.”

Fili has reached Sadie and is fiddling with the buckle on her saddle. Sadie still wears her old saddle as the new saddle still sits in pieces around Kili’s workplace, everything cut but some parts still soaking or stretching or waiting to be stitched together. Kili had worked fervently all morning but there was much left to do, much that he’d planned in his head for this very special gift to his brother and he knows he’ll be pulling an all nighter to finish it all. All this plays through Kili’s mind in the few seconds of silence, as he waits for Fili to respond to him.

Fili shakes his head.

“It is none of my business.”

“Fili--”

“No.” Fili looks at him sharply. Then lets out a breath. His tone softens. “It really isn’t. You should live your life, Kili. Of course you can frequent taverns if you want to. You don’t need my permission. I shouldn’t-- I mean, you should do what you need to do.”

The softer tone is ten million times worse than the sharp one. Kili’s stomach drops as Fili hoists himself onto his pony and grabs the reins. He wishes Fili would yell at him, that they would just have it out, right here in front of hundreds of townspeople, that Fili would drive him to his knees which is exactly where he would go, to have the chance to finally beg forgiveness, to at least have that over with.

But the worst thing is that there is no acid bitterness in Fili’s tone. He really means it. Kili is free to do as he likes, to visit taverns, to lie with airheaded lasses, as far as Fili is concerned. And he knows Fili thinks he is being a good brother, being honorable, noble. The stupid, pig headed, self effacing idiot.

_I’m sorry. I love you. I missed you. Please don’t turn away._

But Kili’s throat is shut tight. The pressure building inside him is unbearable. It’s everywhere, in his chest, behind his eyes, inside his mind and his fluttering heart. He wants to say something, maybe even something to deliberately antagonize Fili like he used to do when they were dwarflings, to get things going, to get the bad stuff out. This was always seen as odd behavior, too, of course. Not the stubborn stoic way of the Durin line. But it worked, he realizes. They must be the only close family members he knows who never held grudges against each other. They’d never wasted time like this before, had they? No, they had not.

But now Fili turns Sadie away and homeward, and Kili can only stumble back to Misty and follow him.

The return ride is considerably less merry than the ride there, both young princes of Ered Luin lost deep in their own thoughts, wishing for things that seem impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this should give you plenty of material to comment about!
> 
> Thanks again so much to FiliKiliThorinForever for starting all this. I keep thinking we are going to run out of Fili Kili stories but then up comes another good idea. 
> 
> And to all who keep kudoing and commenting, it means alot.
> 
> two more days! I won't drag it out longer than that. promise.


	6. Day 5  (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 has turned into a total monster, so I'm posting it in two parts. 
> 
> There is a lot here, and even more going on behind the scenes that won't be written, as what I am trying to sort of convey is that with stubborn, sensitive, temperamental boys like these, it takes a village.
> 
> So we are not at the end yet, and this may still be frustrating for some of you, but I trust you'll still enjoy it, particularly Feguz' POV. :)
> 
> Thanks so much for all the comments on the last chapter!!

For the first time all week, Kili is not certain when he will be seeing Fili, if indeed he will see him at all.

They had parted on uncertain terms. Dis had gathered everyone for dinner, and Thorin had joined them. Kili had no appetite and made a pretense of eating, passing bits of bread and meat under the table to Feguz who took it with his usual gentle amazement whenever anyone fed him that way. Once he’d seen Fili deep in conversation with Thorin, Kili had made his escape, Feguz at his heels.

Dis had grasped his shoulder as he was leaving, searching his face with worried eyes.

“Just going to my forge, Amad. I won’t stay out too long.”

The sun had nearly set by the time he had begun whittling arrow shafts in the deepening twilight under the trees, and he worked until it was almost too dark to see where his blade was going.

Fili had walked out to bid him goodnight before he left. They could not see each other’s faces in the twilight. All colors had gone to gray. Kili’s hands go still in his lap as Fili comes closer. He can only tell by his brother’s voice what he may be feeling.

What he hears is forced cheer. Fili only used that when he was really hurting. Kili’s heart sank.

“Just came out to say goodnight. I’ll be with Thorin most of tomorrow.”

“I have to be in the shop. I could meet you for lunch if Thorin--”

But Fili had shaken his head. “I can’t be certain where we’ll be. He wants to take me into the new shaft of the Isimun mine. We might not be out by lunch.”

“Oh.”

Fili had knelt down, his hand tugging at the grass near his feet. Kili’s forge was not lit as he had been working only on the wooden shafts, but there was enough light for his brother to see the setup. The stone oven he had built was small but well crafted, seated on a strong foundation and sheltered from weather by a sturdy wooden hut with a fully shingled roof. Rows of arrowhead molds sit stacked neatly on a low handmade shelf. Various metal working tools hang on a board set to the wall above them. A basket sits near the forge with chunks of raw ore waiting to be melted. Another basket is tightly lidded and is filled, Kili knows, with goose feathers.

Kili couldn’t tell whether Fili was impressed or not, or if his attention was even focused on the setup Kili had built to make the arrows he has been selling.  He somehow doubts his brother has craftsmanship on his mind right now.

“Kili,” Fili’s voice startles him and he strains to detect the emotion in the timber of the voice. It’s neutral, not containing warmth, but there is no disappointment or condescension either. If anything it sounds as though his brother is simply seeking to steady himself before continuing.

“I want to make sure you know that I’m here this week because I really want to be here. I have duties to fulfill with Thorin, but the time I’ve spent with you has been really important to me. I just want to make sure you know that.”

There is silence for a moment. Kili drinks the words in, hardly daring to interpret them in the way he most wishes to.

And then Fili had begun to stand up to leave, and Kili wants to stop him, wants him to just stay there with him, if only just to have his company, to try to breach this deep chasm that seems to separate them.

He’d spoken like casting a fishing line, hoping to catch at something and have it hold. “Fee?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

It grew even darker. There was no moon. Fili turned his head slightly, and Kili could see the faint outline of Fili’s profile by the light of the distant porch lantern. The soft eyelashes, the aquiline nose, and the curve of his lips.

The voice that had emerged from his brother then sounded as though it had come from a much older person. “I know you are, Kili.”

“I will see you tomorrow. I am not certain when, but I will see you.”

\---------------------------

So this morning Kili is at the shop. Grall has needed a great deal of help today, and by noon his shoulders ache and he is covered in a sheen of sweat from filling six metal orders. But he welcomes the activity. His wrist had pulsed all night, and he’d had the dream again. His arm bothers him. It is not just the mark. Almost all of the skin under the archer’s guard throbs, and his head feels...wrong. His eyes feel like they are not sitting properly in their sockets, and even moving them to look back and forth between the oven and his work table hurts.

He works through it.

Bofur’s visit during his lunch hour is surprising. He brings a small basket of freshly baked pastries from Selma, Bombur’s wife. They go outside to eat at a table Grall has set up in the shade of an elderberry tree. It’s cooler here and Kili feels a bit better, biting into an apple fritter with relief.

He doesn’t notice how closely Bofur is watching him.

“How are ya doing, then?”

“Fine.” Kili takes a long drink from the water jug Grall keeps on the table. “And you?”

“Oh we’re just fine. Been spending time at Bombur’s place a lot lately. Those little ones tug at my heart. Rambunctious ragamuffins, just like you and Fili were.”

Gami and Leeza, yes. Kili usually spends time at Bombur’s place, too, and is very fond of Selma’s dwarflings. But with Fili staying there this week he’s stayed away.

“Rambunctious ragamuffins? I suppose you, Bifur and Bombur were model dwarflings,then?”

Bofur’s eyes twinkle. “Noone’s ever held a candle to you and your brother.”

Kili looks sharply at Bofur, sensing a double meaning to those words, but the dwarf just fusses innocently with his pipe.

“He keeps asking us about you, you know.”

Kili’s insides flutter. Fili has been asking about him?

“And what have you been telling him?”

“Oh all manner of lovely things. How you’ve become a great hunter, and a tamer of giant dogs, and an expert arrow maker, and how you’ve been helping old dwarrowdams cross the street and how the mighty sun all but shines out from your fingertips and out your arse.”

Kili can’t help laughing as Bofur ruffles Kili’s hair, the thick mustache curling upwards with his smile. The lighthearted toymaker grips his shoulder then, shaking the mirth away into a more serious moment.

“You know, you two just need to sit down and have a long talk.”

Now Kili looks at Bofur with full on shock. Bofur just shakes his head, the corners of his hat pointing at Kili alternatingly.

“You didn’t really think it was that much of a secret didja?”

“How many others know?”

“I can only speak for myself and my brothers. Selma cottoned on first and then of course Bombur knew, and there are no secrets within our kin circle. But don’t worry, we’ve been very discreet.”

Kili sighs resignedly. It is kind of a relief that Bofur knows, and not only knows, but shows no signs of disapproving. Quite the opposite in fact.

The fear Kili has felt all year, the storm of heartbreak that nearly overwhelmed him a few days ago, the effort of sheltering a small, fragile hope all week long since then, all these feelings must show in his face, because Bofur’s easy smile fades to something more seasoned, more knowing as Kili confides his greatest fear to him.

“I don’t think he’s ever going to forgive me, Bofur.”

“Oooh, ‘ever’ is long time.” He takes a casual drag from his pipe and blows a smoke ring into the air. “This is a long life, Kili. You’ve only begun, both of you. Give him time, he’ll come around.”

Kili looks at Bofur then, raw, open, desperate.

“You really think he will?”

A large calloused hand clutches the back of Kili’s neck reassuringly. “I do. In the meantime don’t do anything stupid.”

Kili rolls his eyes at that.

“Come round to Bombur’s tonight. There’ll be music, good company, good ale. Good place for the two of ya to relax and enjoy yourselves, bring your mother and get her out of her house for a night, play with the younglings, have a little fun.”

“All right, I might come over later.”

Bofur pats him fondly and takes the now empty basket, all the pastries eaten. He hesitates just before taking his leave, tapping the armguard on Kili’s wrist with a concerned look.

“Say that doesn’t look too good. Perhaps give it a nice soak in some salts before you come over tonight?”

Kili makes light of his arm and bids Bofur goodbye, remembering to send his thanks to Selma for the baked goods.

He rubs at his arm. It hurts worse when he sits still, so he rouses himself and returns to the heat of the shop, retrieving the long metal tongs and beginning his seventh order, with three more to go before he’ll be finished for the day.

\------------------------------------

_The tavern is loud and crowded and bright._

_The two dwarf pups that Feguz knows very well have hooked themselves onto his tail and hind quarters, weighing him down and awakening his inherent protective instincts. They make loud happy sounds, gurgling in their throats, delighted to have their favorite toy visiting their home for them to play with. The great dog usually does not mind them, but tonight he feels a bit overwhelmed by the large crowd of adults here, Masters and Pets all mingling together, noises loud, scents emanating from all corners and crashing together incomprehensibly in his mind. He cannot keep up with all of it. He feels very vulnerable, unable to interpret so much at once, and thus unable to fully protect these pups, or serve his own Master should anything happen._

_He sits down carefully, feeling the pups slide to the floor with him and hearing them screech with surprise and glee at the challenge. This may have been a mistake for now they both come over to his head and begin to tug at his ears and the ruff of fur around his neck. He takes the opportunity to nuzzle at each of their heads briefly, checking their scents and ascertaining their general well-being. The little female smells of strawberries and furniture fabric, the male is all mushrooms and oiled floorboards. They tug at him, but not hard, and bury their vibrating faces and fingers into his fur. Feguz’ mouth lolls open and he pants resignedly, allowing them to gently maul him. Their spirits hold no malice so he does not worry about them going too far, as some of the pups he and Master have met in the streets have done on occasion._

_He looks for Master and sees him standing with a group that includes the golden Master, all of them holding mugs of that odd fermented liquid they all seem to like so much. Even through the maelstrom of incoming stimuli the dog can sense the tension between them. He whines deep in his throat._

_Then abruptly the female of the house is in front of him shooing her pups away from him and speaking to him with a melodious voice that soothes his ears. He sits up straighter and offers a paw to her. He has noticed that some dwarves like it when he does that, and particularly with the females it is an excellent way to win himself a Treat. He is not disappointed and crunches on a lovely bit of bacon as he is finally free to amble away from the younglings and find his Master’s side._

_His ears find relief again when the room actually quiets and the gathered crowd begin to seat themselves in a variety of chairs set around small round tables. The smell of fermented drink is thick in the air now, and as he curls himself at Master’s feet he hears the sound of the two littermates’ voices speaking low, still tense, but it’s loosening. Their scents blend again through the bready smell of fermented barley, and their bodies lean towards each other, although swaying a bit which is unusual. Still, all seems well. Feguz lets out a tremendous sigh and flops his_ _head down on Master’s boot, hearing a gentle chuckling and feeling two sets of fingers pet his neck as he surrenders to the evening._

_He has heard the dwarves’ Music before. It is not unpleasant to him. Several dwarves step up onto a small stage with various instruments, and now the sound in the room is gathered together into a single musical conversation, much less chaotic to his sensitive ears. The first of these is led by a bright eyed, moustached dwarf who leads the room with a sweet tenor._

I am going any which way the wind may be blowing  
I am going where streams of whiskey are flowing…

_Heavy boots tap rhythms under the tables, muscled arms sway their mugs back and forth, bearded faces tip backwards and join their rough deep voices together in the song. More similar songs follow, and the dog drowses lazily, lulled by the white-gray-blue noise around him, the occasional crescendo of laughter startling him, and then deepening back into the comfortable sounds of 50 dwarves unwinding after a long week in the mines, forges and craft businesses._

To the health of the King and a long lasting Peace  
to a good price for ore and your wealth to increase  
may your purse weigh heavy but your troubles be few  
and may all your heart’s wishes come home to you…

 _Feguz sleeps, deep enough in his warmth for his feet to flutter as he chases a fat rabbit through a field of soft grasses. He rouses abruptly, snorting in a breath mid-snore because the timber of the room has changed. There is shuffling on the stage, and a new singer steps up, a female with a round face. He knows the thickset, smiling dwarf with iron gray braids who steps up beside her. This one, Master Dori,_ _has been to his Master’s house before. The female must be kin to him because he feels the same tight, high frequency nervousness flowing in waves out of both of them as Dori speaks to the crowd._

_His Master and the golden one have stopped speaking and their energy shifts. Their eyes exchange a look Feguz does not recognize. Alerted, he picks his head up and pays attention. He senses no threat, no Anger or Fear here, but something is different. Like the crowd has inhaled a deep breath and is holding it._

_The music begins again, the soft tinkling of a harp and deep thrumming of a bass fiddle. All seems fine so far, no different than before._

_And then the female opens her mouth._

_I_ was a lass as fair of face  
as any a dwarf could tell  
You saw me on the street one day  
and you did wish me well

_Feguz has never heard such a sound before. It is like when Female had dropped that pot of cooking tools and all that metal had scraped together. But that had only lasted a few moments. This goes on and on! He scrabbles to sit up, bumping his head on the underside of the table as he does, his eyes growing enormous and his ears pricking up in alarm. Peripherally he senses his two Masters have clamped their hands over their mouths and are struggling with something, and the dog cannot quite discern whether it is Bad or Good._

Oh you did wish me weeeeeeehlllll  
you did  
Oh you did wish me whheeeeeeeehlllllll

_Feguz shakes his head vigorously, because this voice is driving millions of tiny flying insects into his head and chest, he is certain of it. They are in there buzzing and burning inside him, and an urge is building in him that is primal, an urge to open up and let them out. He can feel that his two Masters are suppressing a similar urge, for their bodies are shaking, their breaths are ragged behind their hands and there are actual tears leaking from their closed eyes._

And so I was so fine to you  
But you were a n’er do well  
and when I gave my heart to you  
you tore it all to hell

_Feguz begins to whimper. He is so confused. Is this Bad or not? The female is in full lament; are her pups in danger? Is her Mate threatened? Is there a Storm coming? and his Masters seem equally affected. Shouldn’t someone do something?_

_Why is the rest of the room so calm? Do they not feel this pain???_

Oh you tore it all to heeeeeeeehllll!!!!!

_Feguz’s whimper turns to a full whine--_

you did  
you tore it all to hheeeeeeeeehlllll!!!

\-- _which then erupts into a full throated howl as he can no longer stop himself from throwing his head back and keening to the ceiling. The howl fills the dog’s ears and joins the female’s ear-cracking lament, almost but not quite drowning out the explosion of laughter that can no longer be contained by the long suffering Durin brothers seated behind him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics here are mostly made up by me except for the very first set of lines about whiskey flowing which is by the Pogues. 
> 
> The 'Tore it all to Hell' song experience actually happened to me and a group of my friends a few years ago, and all details of that scene are about right except for the dog howling. If you thought the lyrics were horrible then I did my job. :) 
> 
> Next chapter, and the remainder of this long day, will be posted very quickly.


	7. Day 5 Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more Chapter of Stupid.
> 
> Or...maybe not.

Dori is yelling a blue streak of fury, the poor songstress is in tears and Thorin looks as though he might be planning murder as Kili grabs Feguz’ collar and pulls him towards the door. He lets Fili be the diplomat and cover their retreat with apologies, most sincere and heartfelt (though uttered between barely restrained giggles) to Dori and his cousin Mara and to the company of Bombur’s tavern who are too drunk to care much anyway.

The cool air hits Kili once outside and he pulls Feguz over to a vertical wall and leans against it, the sky full of stars above him rotating a bit more than it should be. He has just about gotten control of his laughter when Fili is suddenly there before him, and one look at his brother’s eyes twinkling out at him from beneath his blond brows stirs the mirth back to life in both of them and they grip each other’s forearms and laugh helplessly.

“Do you know how many verses that song has?”

“No, how many?”

“Twelve.”

Kili’s stomach muscles hurt but he convulses with more giggles anyway as Fili joins him.

“Mahal save us. I wasn’t going to make it through even one more chorus.”

“Your dog is what saved us. Do you know what I heard Dwalin saying as I left?”

“Dwalin??? What?”

Fili takes on the old dwarf’s earthy accent, “Therr now lass. Yer upsetin’ the dogs. Time to set down.”

That sets them off for another few minutes, and they can barely breathe, speak or look at each other for a time, and anything spoken that even remotely rhymes with ‘hell’ or ‘well’ sets them off afresh.

And then they begin to calm, and Kili realizes how close they are, closer than they have been to each other in all of this long age of a single year. His head is so light, the wall behind him steadies him, and his brother’s hands hold him, and he feels like he could accomplish anything. Their temples meet tentatively, and the soft sweet scent of Fili’s skin fills him, and their stubbled faces touch and a low moan escapes from his throat. Kili’s eyes close, and he turns his head just a little so his lips contact Fili’s jaw. His head practically rests on Fili’s shoulder, and he inhales deeply and brushes his closed mouth against warm skin. He dares go no further, leaving the rest up to his brother.

And then he feels hands cupping his face, and lips pressing against his. Barely believing it, his hands flutter up Fili’s back to return the embrace, seeking under Fili’s hair to the warm skin of his neck.

“Open for me, love,” Fili whispers and Kili gives a ragged moan as he complies, feeling the warmth of Fili’s tongue sweeping over the roof of his mouth and pulling his brother closer, tight against him so he can make sure this is real, so he can hang on to it and keep it from ending.

Distantly he realizes Feguz has stood up on all fours, and a low growl has started deep in his chest. Kili reaches down to swat at him with his left hand, refusing to break this kiss to give the dog an oral command. Probably just a fox or squirrel passing nearby.

But the growl grows louder. And finally Kili opens his eyes to see what threat Feguz has detected.

It’s Branig.

The big dwarf is standing there alone in the light of a nearby street lantern staring at them, holding the reins of his pony who is still laden with travel packs and a saddle.

Something inside Kili begins to boil.

Fili turns to see what has changed Kili’s demeanor so drastically, and he stiffens at the sight of his travel companion.

Fili and Branig both start speaking at once.

“Fili?”  
“Branig?”  
“What are you--who is that?”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I came back a day early. I was worried about you. Isn’t that your brother??”  
“I thought I made things clear, Branig.”  
“You’re making out with your brother???”  
“This is none of your concern!”  
“This is how desperate you’ve become? Is this how it works in your family? You’d take your beardless, dog loving sibling over--”

At this point Feguz charges forward, barking savagely at Branig, whose stops his tirade and goes slightly pale, distracted just enough for Kili to sail in and land a fist squarely into his nose. The two begin an ardent fist fight where Branig would quickly have gained the advantage except that Fili grabs one of his arms and pins it, and Feguz fastens his snarling mouth onto the seat of Branig’s pants, sets his great paws against the ground, and pulls.

They are all shouting, seething at each other, clawing, punching, grabbing, growling, snarling, pulling and finally kicking.

By the time Dwalin and Thorin emerge on the scene all three young dwarves are battered, bruised and dirty, and still going at it until Thorin grabs Kili around the waist and pulls him away, still swinging. Dwalin grabs Feguz by the collar and there is a loud sound of fabric ripping as the dog stubbornly holds onto the offender who threatened his master. Fili yanks Branig back with him, the young dwarf grabbing at his now exposed backside, and finally leaving the scene willingly enough with Fili guiding him to the back entrance of the tavern where he can regain his dignity and his rented room without more embarrassment.

Kili watches them go, the haze of alcohol and the blood rushing through his brain making it difficult for him to see anything but the fact that Fili is going away with Branig, and leaving him behind. He doesn’t see the dark look Fili gives the big dwarf, or the desperate one he directs at Kili just before they turn the corner into the alley.

Dwalin drags Feguz over to Kili by the collar and Thorin reaches his hand out to demand the patch of cloth still stuck in the dog’s jaws. Feguz whimpers like a puppy and drops it obediently, then curls to the ground with his tail between his legs. Dwalin nods to Thorin and returns inside.

Kili is left with Thorin who spins him around to face him. Kili tries very hard to look regretful, and even harder not to sway back and forth. His entire body feels like an anvil that’s been hammered by Aule himself, and he really worries his legs might give out under him.

“Explain yourself!”

“He insulted Fili. He insulted me. He was on the verge of insulting the entire line of Durin--”

“And this is how you will respond to a verbal insult? As a prince and an heir, you can find no other alternative?”

Kili hangs his head. Thorin looks despondently at the piece of cloth in his hand.

Dis emerges from the tavern then, coming to stand near enough to view Kili’s injuries but not interfere. Kili can see her hands twitching, though, and her eyes wide with concern.

“I am sorry Uncle.” He can taste blood in his mouth, and he is fairly certain his left eye is swelling up. His head spins with the events of this past hour. He has travelled from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in this past hour and he wants nothing more now than to get away from here to some quiet place to disappear.

He focuses on Thorin’s boots, speaking the words he knows his Uncle expects from him as though reciting a history lesson to Balin. “You are right. I should have behaved better. It will not happen again. I am sorry.”

He senses an exchange between Thorin and his mother, and hears his uncle grunt with finality and walk back into the tavern. He doesn’t see Thorin’s crooked smile, and Dis’ hopeful look.

His intention now is to head for the shop. He knows he won’t be able to sleep, and Fili’s saddle is there to work on as a welcome distraction. To his dismay, Dis accompanies him there and will not rest until she has come all the way inside and made use of the washbasin and clean rags in the workroom to treat the cuts and bruises he’d just acquired. He lets her fuss, not having much strength left at this point to argue. But when she tuts, and attempts to loosen the fastenings on the arm guard he stands up so fast he knocks over the stool he was seated upon. No matter how much she insists he will not allow her near it.

“Kili, it looks inflamed. At least let me have a look--”

“No.”

Dis looks at her son fixedly. He doesn’t recognize the expression there. This worries him.

“Do you know what Fili said to me today?”

Kili look at Dis as though she were a mature goshawk. “What?”

“He said he was tired of traveling. He wants to settle here again, in Ered Luin. Make a life for himself here.”

Kili stares back at her, wondering if she is as confused by his expression as he was by hers.

“You mean, get his own house? start a forge of his own?”

“Mm hmm, a forge of his own. Something like that.”  
Kili’s brow furrows anxiously. Dis, his mother, and as dark and stubborn as her son, furrows her own brow just as anxiously. Neither them is in the least aware of either the change or the effect in their own facial features.

She sighs and folds her arms across her chest. “So you’re going to stay here tonight?”

“Yes. There’s a cot in the back. I’ll be fine, Amad. Really.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she leaves him to return to her own house, and Kili and Feguz are alone once more.


	8. Fili's Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same five days from Fili's POV

He knows the moment he walks in the door and sees Kili’s face that he’d been wrong.

The world shifts, and almost flops back over the way it had been a year ago, before he’d left, before he’d walked into that tavern, before doubts had ever clouded his mind.

His brother’s eyes shimmer hopefully at him, the muscle beneath the soft sleeve of the tunic he wears trembles when he grasps his arms, his fingers caressing, and the voice he’d missed and has been hearing in his sleep for months tells him welcome home and Fili really is home, this is home, where Kili is, and when he looks around the room for any other who might have laid claim to Kili while he’d been away, all he sees is an enormous, soulful-eyed dog.

But of course Branig follows right behind him. Good, solid, fiercely loyal Branig.

So now Fili is the villain. How in Mahal’s great kingdoms of stone had that happened?

The change in Kili then brings back memories of facing the street bullies as children, the ones who used to tease Kili because of his size, his fine features, his slow growing beard, his bow and quiver of arrows. The dark eyebrows lower over glittering eyes, the stance hooks into the predatory pose that only Kili can manage, with his long muscled torso and dark features so unusual for a dwarf, but that could assert themselves into that almost elegant raptor-like position that threatens dismemberment but also evokes complete self-control.

Branig is too distracted by Dis and Thorin’s regal presences to notice, which only furthers Kili’s suit in Fili’s mind.

Kili’s reaction to Branig only lasts moments. His brother pulls it all into the stony tension of his slender shoulders. And the look Kili gives him then, the slight raise of the brows, and the tiny, sad smile...

It grinds all of Fili’s year-long battles with himself down into a fine powder.

Had there even been a need for Trials?

Kili is still his, and would always be his. And he would always be Kili’s. He is certain of that, now. All that remains is...well...the rather large matter of trust.

As soon as they return to the Inn Fili makes his excuses to Branig and seeks the privacy of his room. He and Branig were not yet to the point of courtship where he would share a bed in a public inn with him, even though their bedrolls had been close enough on many a night.

He owes Branig much. He’s been a traveling companion he could trust, has fought side by side with him when they’d been attacked by brigands and once by a pack of orcs, saving his life on one occasion. He’s been a good friend, has not asked Fili for anything, has not asked for the reasons for Fili’s constant and obvious sadness, or about the tightness of the cloth that surrounded his wrist. Fili had never shared his true reasons for leaving home with anyone. Not even Branig. He’d also noted that Branig’s own wrist bore no mark and was uncovered by any cloth. All dwarves understood what that meant, and Fili had returned Branig’s discretion by not asking about his past either.

But Branig is the last dwarf in Middle Earth he wants near him tonight.

He has survived this year, not lived it. Time had plodded forward like a mine shaft through iron ore. The months of loneliness, uncertainty and sadness weighed so profoundly that he’d felt in danger of his own throwing knives, doubted his own ability to safeguard against letting himself fall whenever their road led near a cliff’s edge, found himself throwing his bedroll down purposefully close to rocks that were known to house hibernating poisonous snakes.

He’d thought Kili cared nothing for him. His love, his One, cared nothing for him. That he was Alone, and had always been Alone. That he’d been a Fool. That he had thrown his deepest feelings into a windstorm, carved his devotion into a jewel that had been dropped into a vat of hot slag, spent 78 years of his life living a complete lie.

The image still burns inside him like an ache from an old wound that wouldn’t heal properly. Kili with his beautiful head thrown back, laughing, sitting high up on a bar stool holding a buxom lass in his arms and then his head falling forward, his mouth devouring hers, the crowd around them cheering…all of this the very night after they had argued about going public, the argument that had Fili wondering out loud if Kili was ashamed of him. 

He certainly didn’t seem ashamed about kissing strange lasses in public.

And Nori confirming all, and hinting that it had been going on for months behind his back.

Of course he had left. He couldn’t get away fast enough, or journey far enough. How could he stay there in the face of such loss, such humiliation? Even though it was private, no one knew they were marked for each other. But how could they ever announce it, even if they wanted to do so, with Kili’s cuckolding of him so public, brazen and cruel?

But he had found out the hard way, he could not journey far enough.

The pain simply followed him.

There had been others before Branig. These were “Trials,” as Balin had described them to him. Their markings were in doubt, so they could attempt to find others who suited them more truly, others who matched them and fit with them and would complete them, be One with them. So Fili had opened himself to new acquaintances as he’d journeyed, fully assuming that Kili was doing the same. He paid attention to the dwarves he met, and he had been cautious, of course, but if someone took his fancy, he’d given himself freely. There had been several, some male, some female, who had been most willing. All had been consensual and pleasant enough. All had left him feeling hollow, and aching even more than before.

The only difference with Branig is that the dwarf has been a friend as well as a lover. Fili feels no real warmth for him. It is more an act of practicality than passion.

But Fili’s passion was so easily reawakened tonight in his mother’s house, and all it takes is less than an hour in Kili’s presence to knock down every wall he’s spent a year building.

His heart in his mouth, he takes a deep breath and tears the piece of cloth away from his wrist for the first time in months, and seen Kili’s name still burning brightly there as though he had never left.

So...there must be reasons. Explanations for Kili’s behavior that he isn’t aware of. But before he can tame the swirling possibilities of this line of thought, the mark on his arm begins to burn with a pain he’d never felt from it before.

Of course there had been many a time the mark had flared, ached, or sometimes sparkled with pinpricks. It had been the main reason he’d wrapped it so tightly and had refused to look at it these many months. He had not wanted to be distracted, had not wanted to know if it was still there as he searched for another One, had certainly not wanted to check for it and find it gone.

But this pain stabs into his gut like a double edged sword. Fili falls to the floorboards and clutches at his wrist, grabs at his stomach and gasps, hoping he won’t be driven to the chamber pot across the floor and forced to empty his recent dinner into it.

Something is very wrong.

His hands shake and he pulls himself to his feet and steadies himself, then rushes out of the room, down the stairs, out the door of Bomburs’ tavern and down the road to Dori’s home where he knows Nori is spending the night with his family.

As he runs through the streets of Ered Luin the weather seems to mirror his fears. Wind pushes against him and the sky is bruised black and purple and devoid of stars.

He’d knocked urgently, just as the rain had begun to pelt him, and the door opens to a very surprised Nori, with Ori and Dori equally wondering what brings their prince to their door so late. After briefly explaining to Nori, he finds him to be the ever understanding friend he’d always been.

He returns to the inn as lightning cracks across the sky, and sodden and dripping, pulsing with worry for Kili, Fili knocks on Branig’s door.

The young dwarf is thrilled to see Fili, having been confused and disappointed by Fili’s behavior earlier. But Fili does not bring him the news he’d hoped for.

“I have been most unfair to you. Most untruthful to you and to myself.”

Branig does not understood these words, nor Fili’s request that he accompany Nori back to Bree in the morning and stay there this week to complete their business with Men. Finally Fili removes the leather band from his neck that holds the carved figure of a bear that Branig had made for him.

The young dwarf understands the meaning of this action more clearly, and protests, and asks why, and Fili does the best he can to tell him without revealing his and his brother’s secret. In the end he tells Branig he does not deserve him and urges him to consider it in the most positive light possible. And he feels terrible, as though his life has become a whole string of mistakes, and that this may be yet another one.

But the whole time, Branig stares at him in disbelief, because how can one believe the words of a person whose entire demeanor is wild and unbridled, who sweats and trembles, who grips at his arms constantly and whose head jerks to look out the window at every thunderclap as if looking for some vital lost item to suddenly show itself there.

And so he finally makes his way back to his mother’s house in the gloaming of the night, with no moon to guide him, and no idea of what he may find. He creaks open the door just in time to find Dis helping Kili upstairs. He moves immediately to Kili’s other side to help, and he gasps at how cold and clammy his brother’s skin feels. Together he and Dis put him to bed, heap him with blankets, place a warming pan at his feet.

And then he spends the rest of the dwindling night listening to his mother tell him what the past year had been like from her perspective.

When she tells him Kili’s explanations for his behavior, Fili falls speechless. He stares out the window at the grey light turning brighter, tugging at his hair as his head spins. Of all the things that have gone through his mind in this last year to describe his brother’s actions, simple insecurity had never occurred to him. Dis speaks on, her voice low and steady as she describes life in the past year in this house with her youngest son. Kili becoming quiet and sullen, Kili exhausting himself at the shop, the hard winter that had made them both a bit leaner, Kili building the arrow forge, Kili finding the wet bedraggled puppy who had so unexpectedly grown into a most lucrative hunting partner, but always she came back to dinners with her son being hollow, sad affairs regardless of how much money or food he brought home.

“Whatever his reasons were, Kili has done nothing but pine for you since you left. It was all we could do to prevent him from saddling up Misty and taking off after you by himself.”

“And last night?”

“You saw.” She looks at him sternly. “I don’t need to tell you. Bringing your new friend here nearly broke him. I’ve never been so worried in my life. Thank Mahal for this faithful beast; I’m not sure if Kili would have made it home without him.” She strokes Feguz’s belly with her foot and the great dog rumbles deeply.

“I never would have brought Branig here if I’d even thought for a moment…”

“What _were_ you thinking?”

“I was trying not to, _Amad_. It’s been a hard year for me as well.”

They hear footsteps. When Kili comes down the stairs Fili’s heart swells and he has to take a deep breath.

This week. This week will be the most important time he will ever spend in the making of a life for himself.

He had worked so hard to turn the world over, to upend it, to push his lifelong feelings for his brother down and away and deep under the ground of any waking thoughts. He’d repeated the mantra to himself that he’d thought would protect him, the same words over and over for months. _Kili does not love me, I must let it go... I must let him go…_

The world has shifted, but it does not quite stay put.  
_\--------------------------_

Day 1

He speaks with Thorin at length about many matters before his appointed time with Kili at the shop. After discussing the state of mind of the dwarves he has encountered concerning the retaking of Erebor, they go quiet. Thorin, typically, is not pressed, and lets Fili come to the matter most in his mind in his own time.

“He really was trying to learn lovemaking techniques from strangers?”

“Aye.”

Silence.

“Do you believe him?”

Thorin sits upright, and nods slowly. “Your brother is as daft as he is endearing. I don’t believe there was any malice to his actions.”

His uncle regards him frankly. “He has actually grown some substance in your absence. I no longer despair of him being naught but a burden in your mother’s house.  As to the rest, you two are going to have to work through that on your own.”

Fili walks the streets for awhile after that, head bowed, frowning, hands shoved deep into pockets. He wants so much for it to be true. Kili loving him and only him, so deeply and faithfully that he’d nearly impaled his heart on the sharp end of a storm. Kili pining for him all year and regretting ever seeking anyone else, regretting even thinking of anyone else.

It sounds obsessive, punitive. Of course he doesn’t wish his brother to hurt. But...that is all Fili had done all year. It is what he had always given Kili. Single-minded affection that needed no other.

Was it too much to ask for it to be returned?

It wasn’t just that Kili had sought other sexual partners. It was how _public_ it had been. Kili had not just sought private lessons in hopes of learning to please Fili, he had embraced pleasure with another in a tavern full of dwarrows. The memory is still so raw. His stomach pangs thinking of it and pressure builds behind his eyes. The cheers of those young dwarves still thunders in his nightmares sometimes. Did Kili need that? Was he so worried about what people might think of him for loving his sibling that he sought fortification against it this way, with applause for drunken romantic abandon in front of all?

He finds Kili at the shop at the exact hour he had promised. Thorin is right. There is a mantle of responsibility that rests on Kili’s shoulders that was never there before he’d left. Fili can’t help smile inwardly. It looks good on him.  
\--------------------------  
Day 2

He very nearly loses his composure watching his beautiful sleep-tousled brother stretch and yawn over the breakfast tray he brings him. And he’ll definitely be returning to the Hobbit market for more gooseberry jam, just to see Kili’s eyes widening from the pleasure of tasting it and hear the little moans of satisfaction coming from deep in his throat as his mouth sucks the remnants from his fingers.

\-------------------------  
Day 3

The second time Fili falls into the water is purposeful, just to see if it’s possible to get Kili to laugh any harder.

It is.

His brother had been laughing from the top of his chest, happily and high pitched at Fili’s misadventure, but with his second dunking and Feguz’s humble offering of one of the already dead fish from his own basket Kili’s laugh deepens and goes down into his belly. He actually teeters on his legs he is so affected, which makes it all the easier for Fili to pull him down into the water with him.

And their meal of fresh fish by the side of the river is torture, pure and simple. Kili pulls at the fish held in his long fingers with his teeth, his eyes closed, the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching as he concentrates.

Finally no longer able to stand it, Fili walks down to the water and splashes himself to try to cool the heat that consumes him.

This time with Kili is fragile. The scars he’d built up are softening, the walls he’d surrounded himself with are crumbling, and he is beginning to believe, to trust again. And he wants to leap across the campfire and press Kili into the sand and not think at all for the rest of this blissful afternoon. He wants to plunge in and tell Kili how much he missed him and still loves him, and to demand the reasons from Kili himself,

_Why?? Why did you cheat on us???_

But he just can’t. Not yet. What if the reasons aren’t enough? What if something has become too hard inside him to be willing to sell himself too cheaply?

\------------------------  
Day 4

Fili eats no more of Dis’ dinner than Kili does, and hears only every other phrase Thorin speaks to him as his mind still keeps threading its way back to that textile sales table and its giggling proprietor.

When Kili leaves the table for the back door his eyes jerk upwards, meeting his mother’s equally anxious expression. He relaxes when she goes to his brother before he can step out the door and he hears his reassurance to her.

He isn’t certain of the wisdom of walking out to where Kili sits in the twilit enclave of the mini forge he’d built. But he likes the quiet. He likes to see yet more evidence to support Thorin and Dis’ accounts that Kili has grown resourceful, responsible, and could hold his own in the world now if he needed to.

The swell of pride and affection are there again, and the world wants to settle itself there to stay. But the wary side of him is still strong, not only fueled by the original painful transgression but by months of traveling in the Wild, which does not suffer fools.

Thing is, Fili is fairly certain that Kili is the one person on Arda for whom he’d gladly play the Fool.

_I’m sorry._

It’s the right time for Kili to say it, now that the encounter in the market has reconnected them both to the act. He lets the words float there in the soft air between them, lets them curl around his boots like a contented cat.

It only takes Fili a few steps away from Kili’s arrow forge to know where he is going.

He heads straight there, to the same tavern, the one for the younger crowd, the one where he’d seen Kili and Aza together a year before.

He keeps his profile low, his hood up, wanting no attention or services from this place other than its cheap ale, and its landmark significance in his life.

He feels more in common with the old codger behind the bar than he does with the young dwarves around him. They cavort loudly, engaging in every drinking game they can devise that will increase the likelihood of someone becoming inebriated enough to burst into song, or begin clumsily dancing a jig, or claiming a dwarrowdam by the hips and pulling her into a sloppy kiss.

He orders ale after ale and sequesters himself into a corner, observing. All seems cause for great merriment, here, even the smallest of events. He swallows the watery brew and lets his mind wander, remembering their encounter with Aza in the market a few hours earlier. The girl is not among the present company, thank Mahal. He falls deeper and deeper into a haze, thinking about how much time Kili must have spent in this room, and trying to feel, to see, to know what it was his brother was looking for here.

He is very drunk indeed when Dwalin and Ori find him and help him regain his room back in Bombur’s Tavern where he falls asleep before they have even gotten his boots off.  
\------------------------  
Day 5 

Selma fusses over him and he drinks her special tea concoction gratefully but gingerly. The dwarflings climb up and down his legs. His head throbs.

Bombur, Bifur, and Bofur haul barrels of ale through the door and behind the bar as there is to be a party tonight. Ori works in his sketchbook off in a corner. The ‘Ur brothers and cousin eventually gather around him and begin eating a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausages, ruthlessly clapping him hard on the shoulders and asking him loudly, eyes twinkling, if he’d had an enjoyable evening.

“Wasn’t that the tavern Kili was partial to?”

“Aye. Liked the company of the young dwarrows there, he did. ‘Specially the dams.”

Fili’s head throbs harder and joins a hitch in his heart as he looks sharply at them. But they seem undisturbed by his reaction, making a merry morning of it.

Bombur lifts a large slice of sausage with his fork, gesturing as he speaks, “We saw Kili with a lovely little lass right here in this tavern! Din’ we lads?”

Bifur looks at Fili with wide eyes and nods, swallowing a large bit of cooked eggs in lieu of speech.

Bombur’s mouth crooks and he nods in agreement. “Aye, she fell asleep in his arms and they made a pretty picture together over in that chair Ori’s in now as we speak. Right Ori? You even made a drawing of it ya liked it so well? Come show Fili!”

Fili pulls back into his chair and is unconsciously shaking his head, _no, no he really really does not want to see this…_

But the irrepressible brothers are vocalizing encouragement and Ori innocently brings his sketchbook over, flipping back a few pages to a drawing he had done a few months previously--

\--of Kili, asleep in the great chair by the tavern fireplace, with little five year old Leeza curled up in his arms.

He winces at their laughter at his expression, their sound thrashing of his senses, which he supposes he fully deserves. Of course they all know. And the rest of breakfast is spent with Fili listening to their favorite “Kili tales” from the past year. He seems to have been their favorite source of entertainment. Until of course, Fili himself had arrived.

By the time Thorin arrives to take him into the mines, Fili has learned enough to realize that during all the time he has been away, after Trials between them had been declared, during all the time Fili had been forcing his own heart and body elsewhere, Kili had been celibate.

\-------------------------------  
Day 5 

_Kili laughing, and close, and warm against him...there has never been anyone else who had ever made him feel this magic inside him, not across the a hundred different villages and hundreds of taverns with all of the handsome young dwarrows and dwarrowdams, not in all of the Blue Mountains has he found anything to compare to this. The alcohol cannot even dim or lessen the realness of the warmth, the rightness of it, of having a soulmate who understood how funny a dog howling in tandem with horrible singing really was, who’d fished and climbed trees and played pranks and gotten into fights with him and for him and knew him so well, who’d shared so much with him. Sweet gravity pulls his mouth to Kili’s and pure joy shoots through him when Kili pulls him close and shows him how much he agrees with him._

Branig’s interruption of this moment is thus most unwelcome.

\--------------------------------

Fili shoves Branig roughly into his rented room in the tavern. The big dwarf’s nose is swollen and bleeding, his pants torn, his expression quickly fading from outrage to bewilderment.

All Fili can bring himself to feel is disgust.

“What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Nori? Did you just leave him in Bree by himself?”

“Nori is fine on his own, you know that.”

“But it’s poor form! Does he even know where you are?”

“Don’t speak to _me_ of poor form!!!”

Fili’s blood is at boiling point, and Branig deflates slightly. “Do not judge what you do not understand.” Fili feels his rage barely contained and warning rings through his voice, “You insulted something much older than you are, and more sacred than you know.”

Branig sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, looking at Fili cautiously.

“So you really do not care for me at all?”

“Did I not make myself clear enough five nights ago?”

“Yes. But--” Branig shifts uncomfortably, the tear in his pants exposing him rather unexpectedly to the bed furs “You did not seem to be fully in control of yourself that night. You were so agitated, so upset, and during these past few days I began to wonder if perhaps the real reason you stopped our courtship was because your Uncle did not approve of me and had pressured you to turn me away.”

Fili shakes his head, and he lets his anger fade. He concedes that this is an understandable conclusion to make given the stern countenance of his Uncle. “No. Thorin allows me my own choices in such matters.”

A light dawns in Branig’s eyes.

“The mark under that cloth is your brother’s name, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Branig comes back to his feet and bows. “I am sorry, then. That is indeed sacred.”

Fili nods in acceptance of the gesture. But Branig tips his head curiously.

“But then if you are marked for each other, you have surely known each other all your lives and must be certain of each other’s love? So why were you engaged in the Trials?”

Fili smiles sadly. “That is most private, and is my burden to bear. I would appreciate if you would not share what you have guessed of us with anyone, Branig. I meant it the other night, when I told you I had been unfair to you. I am sorry our courtship cannot continue.”

\-----------------------

The night seems to continue endlessly. Fili returns to the party, which has died down.

He thinks of Aza at the market, _you’ve been keepin’ yerself scarce these days, Kili,_ of Kili’s apology, and the piles of perfectly fletched arrows in Kili’s forge, of his brother laughing in the sunshine by the river, the warmth of his lips a little while ago when he’d pressed him into the tavern wall,

The dark beautiful rage in him as he’d slammed his fists into a dwarf twice his size and the passion of him fighting for Fili and for himself, unheedful of judgements or low opinions,

_You know nothing of him and can never give him what I can! He is mine and will never be yours!_

He feels lighter, a bloom of something growing larger and larger inside him as these thoughts fill him. For the first time in a year Fili begins to see the future uncloud, and thinks he might actually like where it leads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eternal thanks to Iscalibtra for betaing this mammoth chapter :)


	9. Day 6

Kili tries to sleep.  He really does.  He lays down on the cot after Dis leaves him at the shop, but sleep does not come. His mind keeps revisiting Fili’s kiss with longing, but then follows it with the fight with Branig and Fili leaving with the large dwarf.

 _Don’t do anything stupid,_ Bofur had said.

His arm throbs in tune with his ale-soaked head, and he tosses restlessly until he finally gets back to his feet and turns to the unfinished saddle resting on the worktable in his corner of Grall’s shop.

The frame of the saddle sits waiting for the addition of more padding and leather layers. Kili has the leather stretched and ready, and the padding precut. He lights a lantern and places it onto the worktable and his hands begin the laborious process of stretching the leather over the saddle frame, clamping it tightly, and stitching around the edges so that the padding sits evenly inside it. He wants the seat of the saddle to possess both strength and beauty, like Fili. Pushing the thick steel needle and its trailing cord through the leather layers takes muscle and concentration to achieve the effect he wants. The work consumes him as the hours pass.  The effort and repetition of it keeps his mind off more painful thoughts.

His hands and fingers ache as he works, and he wonders if he will have permanent indentations from the tip of the needle that drives into the flesh of his right palm as he sews the last few stitches that close and finish the edge. His eyes are hurting again. He removes the final clamp that holds the edges of the last bit of leather together, drives the steel upwards, the point emerging a precise distance from the last stitch he’d completed. He wants the saddle to be finished, the tedious hard effort to end, but at the same time he doesn’t want it finished because the finality of it frightens him. Once he gives this gift to Fili, what is left? His brother had gone with Branig last night. What chance did Kili even have? Especially after the way he’d behaved...lashing out in a drunken fury like some coarse ignorant dwarfling. How could Fili want him now? Why would he risk mating with a sibling when he now clearly had a taste of the low opinions that would follow them?

The last stitch is through and he ties it off, tucking in the final cords. There remains one last touch and he comes to his feet unsteadily, holding on to the worktable as the room spins. He waits until it stops. A branding iron with Durin’s crest on it rests against the wall near the fire. Kili lifts it with his left hand and sits the end with the crest into the coals. Once it has turned red orange with heat, he carries it to the right flank of the saddle and presses it briefly against the patch of leather that will sit against Fili’s right knee when he rides.

The saddle is marked, now, as belonging to one of Durin’s line.

He dunks the hot metal into the water bucket and steps back against one of the great support beams in the center of the shop, viewing the results of six days of work. His body suddenly feels very heavy and he slides down to the floor. Feguz, who’d been stretched out asleep by the fire up until now, pads over to him, sniffing at him curiously. Kili buries the numb fingers of his right hand into the dog’s fur and rests his head against the velvety muzzle, whispering gratefully to the one being who has stayed by his side this whole year, and who will still be with him as time continues into what is promising to be an even lonelier year to come.

He wakens to a massive hand on his shoulder and Grall’s anxious voice hours later. He is still sitting on the floor where he had dozed off with Feguz’ head in his lap, his head resting against the beam. Kili forces a carefree smile. This is not a workday. Grall does not need him, but since he lives in the rooms above he was bound to find Kili here after he’d finally returned home from his own night out.

Moving proves difficult. Kili isn’t certain how much of what he is experiencing is hangover versus heartbreak versus low-grade infection. Either way the distance between his seated position on the floor and his desired position standing on his feet seems colossal. He makes it, waiting until Grall’s back is turned, with much of his weight leaning on Feguz and the floor and then his knees and then the floor again and the wall and then the worktable.

He uses the water pump behind the shop to clean up. He seems to be covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and even after washing and drying off it returns to his skin. It is after noon, the day grey and cold, the sky pewter, the air scented with a hundred cook fires from the residents of Ered Luin attempting to stay warm in their huts.

Grall joins him as he is tying his hair back in a loose ponytail with a short piece of leather. He feels relief at having his hair off of his neck, where it stubbornly traps this strange heat he wishes would leave him.

“All right lad?”

“Aye.”

“Headed home then?”

“Yes, unless you needed me…?”

“No, no. I expect your _amad_ will need you more than I,” says the goodnatured old dwarf, smiling knowingly at Kili.

Kili looks warily and unknowingly back. “How is that?”

“Well, I heard that your brother found love on the road, and that his love came back to see him last night from a great distance. That usually means a binding ceremony is imminent. But I assumed you knew all this?” Grall’s expression has changed, his heavy eyebrows furrowing over his usually merry eyes. Kili’s vision tunnels around the round familiar face, only half feeling the large palm patting his arm, the voice changing timber to low, thrumming concern.

He shakes himself out of it, a smile cracking his face, words tearing from his lungs. _Yes, a fine thing indeed for his brother. He should get home straight away. So good of Grall to wish Fili well. Kili will be sure to tell him._

Only a few dwarves pass him as he makes his way home with the saddle on his shoulder. Feguz trots at his side, whining softly.

\------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Fili reaches Dis’ house it is late afternoon. This grey day had hidden the passing of time as it had hidden the sun behind thick clouds.

It had taken time to repair the multiple damages from the night before. When he’d finally come down with a sore head for a late breakfast he’d found Dori still in residence, speaking in a low voice with Thorin and Dwalin at one end of the great tavern’s common table. When Dori sees Fili he stands up so aggressively he knocks over the bench he’d been sharing with two other dwarves who’d been innocently breakfasting, sending beards and bowls of porridge flying and only Thorin’s authoritative calmness prevents another serious argument.

Fili allows Dori to vent at him, bowing and apologizing and agreeing as much as his dignity permits, and sighs as the old dwarf finally takes his leave.

It seems only right to stay through the next few hours and help Bombur’s family clean up the tavern and put things to rights after the night’s chaos. Branig emerges from his room, his pants now repaired by Selma’s quick needle, and Fili is glad to see him pitch in with them as they wipe down tables and chairs and scrub floors and beat rugs.

They finally sit down with Thorin and Branig reports such as he can concerning his and Nori’s activities in Bree. The big dwarf speaks shyly to the leader of dwarves of Erebor. He had indeed left Nori for impetuous and selfish reasons, and he admits to this. But it was not as callous as Fili had thought.  Nori had gone undercover with a small multiracial traveling group of craftsman that had some dealings with the Numenorean Rangers. Branig had stayed behind at the Prancing Pony to monitor the news there until Nori returned, so Nori would not miss Branig for a few days yet.

Thorin nods, looking back and forth between the two sheepish young dwarfs before him. He finally looks to Branig. He is wise enough to know that many things were worked out last night, and not as Branig would have liked them.

“So what are you planning to do now?”

“Sir, I would have been most happy to continue helping to further our race’s quest to reclaim Erebor. I would have followed Fili anywhere.” He smiles at Fili, who smiles sadly in return. “However, I do not think Fili has any more need of my presence. And I have been missing my own kin in the North. I think I will be returning there tomorrow as soon as I am organized.”

Thorin and Fili nod to him as he takes his leave. They speak a bit more about Men, and Rangers, and Hobbits, and the fast coming winter, until Fili can bear it no longer and asks to be released to go and find Kili.

Thorin raises his eyebrows at him. “So your Trials are over, then?”

Fili’s expression gives him away before he can even answer. And abruptly there is no more work being done in the tavern. Selma’s soft hands wrap around him from behind and suddenly he is surrounded by snickering, chortling brothers and cousins, with several small bags of coins being tossed back and forth, one of them landing in Thorin’s outstretched hand.

Thorin’s mouth quirks upwards on one side. “Aye, go find him.” he says. “I know you are weary of traveling, too, nephew. But I will need you to go and meet Nori if we are to lose Branig to his Northern kin.”

Fili nods, committing himself to traveling to Bree as soon as he is certain of Kili’s well being.

\----------------------------------

So now Fili stands at his mother’s door, breathless, anxious. Dis opens the door to him appearing to mirror his feelings.

A beautifully finished leather saddle sits on the table, perfectly crafted to fit Sadie, expertly stitched and thickly padded, shining and golden tinged to match his own coloring. He almost dares not touch it for fear of marring the finish, but he finally does, running his hand over the soft leather. He imagines he can still feel the heat of Kili's hands working the velvety surface.  A lump forms in his throat. Kili had only started this a few days ago.

“He must have spent all night on it.”

Dis nods, her eyes regarding him intensely. “He only just arrived with it a little while ago.”

He looks at her. “Where is he now?”

“The arrow forge. Fili...”

“I know, I know, I’m going.”

“I’ll be at Lula’s,” She wraps a scarf around her head and picks up a basket.

“ _Amad,_ you don’t have to--”

“Yes I do. You have the house. You’ll need it.”

He hears worry in her voice. “What is it you aren’t telling me?”

She takes his head in her hands and touches his forehead to hers. “Take care of your brother tonight, _inudoy_. You were always the strong one. He needs your strength.”

And with that she is through the door and gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Kili wears the typical clothing of a forger. A sleeveless leather vest fastens down his front extending down past his hips far enough to protect his upper thighs. His trousers are thick and tucked into his boots. A belt with pouches for small tools wraps around his waist. Thick gloves protect his hands.

The clouds have been thinning, and rays of light from the setting autumn sun play over the muscles of Kili’s arms and give red tints to his ponytailed hair as he kneels over the arrow molds. In his gloved hands is a stone container that he tips carefully over each mold, allowing a small amount of bright yellow molten metal to sluice into the waiting arrow shaped openings.

Fili is certain he has never seen anything so beautiful.

He stays quiet as Kili works, settled on the ground with Feguz. He sees why his mother was worried. As he looks closer at Kili he sees the pallor, the circles under his eyes, the tremble in his right elbow.

“So you’re still here?” The last of the slag pours from the container and Kili lets it thunk to the ground.

“Yes, I’m still here,” says Fili.

Kili finally looks at him. Fili smiles because he can’t help it.

“The saddle is beautiful.”

Kili lights up at that. “You like it?”

“I do very much.”

Kili nods, smiling, but it’s a tight smile. “So what are your plans?”

“I have to leave tomorrow to return to Bree to meet Nori. But I’ve spoken to Thorin, and once we’re done there I’m coming back here to stay. I won’t be traveling anymore.” Fili takes a breath. “Kili I--”

“I won’t be here.”

Fili looks at his brother sharply. “What do you mean?”

Kili looks at Fili as though he wishes the answers to all of his questions could be found in his eyes. “I mean I’m leaving, going abroad on my own. I spoke with one of the caravan leaders earlier today. They need good archers to defend them from brigands on the road. I’ll be leaving when they leave in two days.”

Mahal. Fili’s heart begins to race. He tries to rein himself in, but the conversation begins to speed up, to take on a pace neither of them can stop.

“This is very sudden, isn’t it? Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve made my decision.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“It’s what I have to do.”

“Why do you have to?”

“ _Because I still love you!_ ”

Kili’s voice has broken and all of his anguish pulses from him, no longer hidden, no longer held in and waiting for the right moment. He faces Fili full on, trembling with everything he’s been holding back, with everything they’ve both been holding back. All Fili can do is breathe, and listen.

“I never stopped. I tried to stop feeling for you after you left, but it didn’t work. And you are moving back here, and you’ll make your life with Branig, and you have every right to do that. And I know you want me to be here, that you value me as your brother. I loved this week with you. I’m honored you still want me in your life. But I can’t be here and watch and know I can’t ever have you again, watch someone else get the love from you that I lost because I was stupid and cowardly and didn’t take care of you as I should have.”

Fili has stopped breathing. Kili stands so defenseless before him that Fili worries the wrong word or gesture might crush him.

“I can’t be here anymore Fee. I won’t survive.”

He crosses the space between them and pulls Kili into his arms, holding him tightly as he feels his brother stumble a bit. Kili’s breath catches. His arms don’t quite return the embrace at first, and then Fili feels his brother capitulate, his hands catching at Fili’s back, his head falling onto his shoulder. He hears a heavy whisper in his ear.

“I tried...I really did. I tried to turn it off. I even tried to hate you. It didn’t work.”

“Kili, Mahal Kili…”

“I can’t just be your brother, Fili.”

“No, no, no, love, you have it all wrong.”

He pulls them over to a low bench nearby and draws Kili down onto it next to him. He takes Kili’s arm, the one with the arm guard strapped so tightly around it, into his lap and taps it gently.

“Take this off.”

“No.”

“Please, Kee.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Kili--”

“Don’t ask me, Fili, please don’t ask me to do this.”

“You need to look--”

“Are you punishing me? Is that what this is?”

“No!”

“Is this your revenge? It isn’t enough you brought your new One back to torture me? Now you want to force me to see my failure etched into my own skin?”

“Kili, no! I wouldn’t do that! I’d never do anything to hurt you!”

Kili has slid off the bench and scoots backwards away from Fili, who slides down with him, trying to at least stay close, trying to reach for him.

“This hurts, Fee! If I look it makes it real! It makes it permanent! at least if I never look I can still keep hope! I can still keep what I feel, keep my half of it! Maybe that can be enough to keep me sane when I leave here and have to live alone for the rest of my life!”

Tears stream down Kili’s face now and Fili reverts to the things he used to do when they were small, pulling his little brother close, tangling their legs together there on the ground and cupping Kili’s head with his hands, touching his forehead to his, dismayed at how hot the skin feels, knowing his brother needs medicinal herbs and rest but knowing even more that _he needs to see,_ right now, right here, the way things really are and not how he’s worked things up in his dizzy head.

“You’ve never been alone, and you will never be alone.”

Fili pulls at his own wrist covering and Kili sees what he intends and exhales raggedly, resigned, but still resisting, still leaning away.

“Look, nadad.” Fili whispers “Don't be afraid.”

Kili gasps down at his own name glowing brightly on Fili’s wrist.

“Now take this horrible thing off your arm and look at your own.”

He waits for Kili to make the first move towards the buckles that lace the arm guard so tightly around his arm. He has trouble with only one hand, trying to push one of the small leather straps backwards through one of the metal buckles. It has been so taught for so long that dirt and grime have encrusted the crevices and it’s difficult to budge. Fili brings his hands in to help, and together they begin to loosen it.

Feguz, who had kept at a distance while emotions had been more intense, now makes his way closer to them. Fili would have laughed if the situation had been different. The great dog moves with his belly to the ground, completely submissive, scootching forward on his haunches and looking up at them cautiously with large eyes peering from beneath his brows. When he sees Fili’s non-aggressive posture he becomes bolder and brings his nose to his master’s arm, nuzzling and sniffing at it carefully, letting out a low whine.

Kili swallows hard and his breath hitches as the leather, which was stuck to his skin in places, finally comes away from him. Fili winces and curses under his breath. There are raw red sores lining the side of Kili’s arm where the buckles had bitten into him, some of them oozing unhealthy looking fluid.

“By Aule, Kili, what did you do to yourself…”

But Kili is transfixed by the name glowing brightly there on his wrist, in spite of the soreness and inflammation of the skin around it.

_Fili._

Kili pulls Fili’s wrist next to his so their names sit side by side, their pulses beat close and fast and perfectly in sync. They are winded, exhausted, as though they’d both just run a marathon.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“No, _amral_ ” Fili holds the back of Kili’s head gently so their foreheads rest together, tangles his fingers in the dark hair. “I tried to get away, and I couldn’t. No matter how far I traveled.”

Kili’s weight seems to shift into him, his hand that rests on Fili shoulder clutches at him as his voice breathes out, “Branig…?”

Fili shakes his head, Kili’s bangs brushing against his forehead, “I don’t love Branig. I agreed to let him court me about two months ago. I thought it would be wise of me to try to move on, to get you out of my mind. I knew we’d be traveling back through here at some point and I didn't have any reason to think...Kili when I left here I didn’t think you cared about me at all.”

Kili sits back, his eyes going bright, his face crumpling and caving into a deeply carved wince, his hands brushing feebly at Fili’s arms and chest as though he could pull it all back, the past, the act, the pain, all of it.

Fili's voice is barely a whisper.  “Kili, _why?_ ”

Kili shakes his head, his voice trembles. “I was afraid I didn’t know enough...I mean, about how to please you. You seemed to want to go public, so much, and I knew what that would mean...and you’re so perfect, Fee, and I wasn’t sure I’d be enough.”

Fili rolls his eyes, drawing his brother’s name out in frustration, “Keeleeeee…”

“I know, I was stupid. It was childish. I know! I’m so sorry.”

It all tumbles out of both of them, then. The misunderstandings, the anguish over missed opportunities, the lonely months of wondering, hoping and then trying not to hope, trying to let go but hold on at the same time, just in case what the world and the older and wiser kept showing them was all wrong. And it’s difficult, but they decide they must share everything. They tell each other with heads bent, in low voices, holding onto each other tightly, the times, and places, and names of every dwarf each of them had touched and held. It does not surprise either of them that when they piece these events together over this past year, each betrayal seems to coincide with times when their marks had burned like fire, for Fili before he had left, and for Kili while Fili had been away.

Their marked arms sit together between them, facing upwards, so they can both see and remember that whatever happens now, however their words stumble awkwardly or their hearts flutter uncertainly at the painful memories they share, they are One. They are marked and meant for each other, the evidence etched in their skin.

And as they speak, a tentative, searching, warm wet tongue licks out of Feguz’ mouth and soothes its way over both of their arms.

“Fili?”

“Kili.”

“What happens now?”

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing that does _not_ happen now.”

He cups Kili’s face in his hands, stroking over the burning temples, looking into wide eyes.

“You are not leaving here with any stupid caravan to become a traveling archer for a bunch of stupid merchants at any time in the near future.”

Kili’s smile heats Fili’s heart like a forge fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I feel like I can finally exhale now.
> 
> Thanks again to all who have kudoed and commented! It means quite a lot. And thank you Iscalibtra for betaing and being so helpful and encouraging :)
> 
> And ultimately thanks to Filikilithorinforever for writing such an brilliantly angsty unfinished story I could not leave it alone.
> 
> And it isn't over yet. One more day! But all downhill from here.


	10. Day 6 evening and twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: sex between siblings, just so you know.

_Feguz is compelled to tend Master’s arm. He cannot help it. It is a reflex, even though the acrid taste on the damaged skin stings him and makes his eyes water. He snuffs and gasps as his tongue licks out in a steady rhythm, scraping against Master’s arm with the most sensitive part of himself besides his nose. But his nose activates too at the scents of the two dwarves before him, at the changes in their heartbeats and skin temperatures in these last intense few minutes, at the strength of their Need for each other that he senses now, just as he had from the very first moment he had seen them together._

_They both gave all the signs of anxious Prey when the Golden One had first approached. His Master had been pale and ill all afternoon, his pulse fluctuating with the slightest breeze, his body shivering as though from cold but Feguz’ nose kept feeling nothing but heat, and too much of it, from his skin. Then Anger, and loud Words, and now…_

_That leather Thing is finally off._

_Feguz watched as the Golden One helped Master pull it off, and he is relieved, sooooo relieved to see it discarded. He knew it was Bad. He had worried. It had been making Master Sick. Sick was Bad. He could have lost him. Feguz had begun to feel Fear himself from that, the inexorable reality of Losing Master coming closer if that Thing did not come off, if Master left it on and got hotter and hotter and more Sick and would not let Feguz Help. Feguz had been truly frightened. Like Prey about to die._

_What would he do without Master?_

_But Danger has passed, and the two dwarves sit close now, and Feguz has cleared most of the bitterness from Master’s arm, not realizing that his paw presses possessively against the hand of his patient, and only peripherally feeling hands pet at his head and ears, and soft voices speaking his name._

_He has both of them in his senses together now, both Masters, both Mates, their arms so close together that his tongue crosses both their skins in a single long lick. Even with Master Sick, their tastes mingle like honey and butter on his tongue._

_They rise to their feet and go into House, and the Golden One guides Master to sit at the eating table. Feguz situates himself at Master’s feet, his head in Master’s lap, as_ _the Golden One moves about the Female’s domain, gathering hot water into a basin, emptying salts and herbs into it. Feguz smells willow tree bark, turmeric, rosemary, and so much rich salt…_

_He whimpers at the same moment Master does, as his sore arm enters the hot salty water. But then sighs as the soothing bath takes effect, moving down to the floor and pressing his front paws against Master’s legs, feeling the pulse there, slowing and steadying, his Master’s breathing deepening and his eyes closing in the universal sign of trust._

_Feguz heaves a heavy sigh._

_It will be all right now._

\-------------------------------

Fili places a mug of hot spiced tea into Kili’s free hand, and straddles the bench behind him, wrapping his arms gently around Kili’s waist and drawing him back, taking his weight. Kili doesn’t fight him, and when Fili presses the side of his head against Kili’s temple, he feels the pressure returned.

They sit like that for a long time, a time that seems like ages, as though they had returned to the beginning of the history of the world, and everything was being remade, reforged, made new and the story replays itself before them as they lean into each other’s warmth.

Every few minutes Kili raises his soaking arm up out of the milky water, sees that the mark still shines there, and lowers it back again. After the third time watching him do this Fili nuzzles him gently.

“It will not fade now, Kee. Our Trials are over.”

“Are you sure?” Kili turns his head enough so Fili can see one anxious brown eye regarding him.

“Yes. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

A hitched breath somewhere between a laugh and a sob comes from Kili’s throat and he looks away quickly. Fili tightens his arms around him, feeling his own heart stutter and speed up slightly at his own pronouncement.

But he still has to ask.

“And you, Kili, are you sure?”

Kili twists in his arms, removing his arm from the healing water and gripping Fili’s shoulders.

“Fili I would go with you, this very moment, to any tavern or public place of your choosing, and draw you up with me onto the highest place in the room and reveal our marks to a hundred dwarves!”

They clutch at each other, shaking their heads, smiling widely, eyes too bright, voices choked. Fili finally guides Kili’s arm back to the basin and pulls him back against him. Relief washes over both of them in a wave of unclenching muscles and unraveling doubts.  Their greatest fears finally rise from them and take leave like mists from a pond surface in the early morning.

Fili closes his eyes and wonders how he made it through this past year without even one dose of this, of feeling his brother’s dark hair against his face, smelling of wood smoke and soft touches. He can feel Kili’s pulse race as fast as his own, and he knows the thumping almost reaching to his throat is his mind realizing how close they came to the precipice. So many lost their Ones in just this way, through a comedy of errors and misunderstandings. He’d met many dwarves on the road who’d met this fate, their marks gone at the mere allowance and then fatal acceptance of a doubt.

He holds Kili tighter.

“I’m sorry Kili. I never should have left,” he whispers.

Kili’s breath hitches. “I don’t blame you at all--”

“When you came to my door and kept knocking, I should have flung it open and thrown you against the wall and confronted you, and demanded answers.”

Kili smiles and curls his head into Fili’s neck and holds his wrist tightly, nodding.

“I wish you had done that.”

“I wish I had, too.”

“But we are here, now?”

Fili nods, speaking the words with his lips muffled against Kili’s forehead. “We are here now and I won’t let go again.”

Feguz grunts deeply and raises his head from the floor to look at them quizzically. Did the great dog feel this moment? They both look back into the hazel gray eyes that regard them from the gentle canine’s face, both young dwarves breathe into each other as the animal seems to shrug impatiently at them and flops back down to the floor, sighing loudly.

They sit quietly for awhile longer, both unconscious of the fact that they are rocking back and forth, ever so slightly.

Kili has almost finished the tea.

“You put sleeping herbs in this didn’t you?” his words slurring a little.

“I did. You need to sleep, love.”

“Bastard.”

Fili chuckles softly.

“Fee?”

“Mmm?”

“Stay here tonight?”

Fili moves a hand to card his fingers through dark unruly hair.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you still have to leave tomorrow don’t you?”

“Aye.”

“Don’t leave without waking me.”

“I promise I will not.”

When the water grows cold, Fili wraps Kili’s arm in a clean bandage, careful to leave the mark open to the air when Kili requests it.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Moonlight bathes Fili’s sleeping features, turning his golden hair to liquid silver. His chiseled nose and full lips take on the quality of marble sculpture, and Kili would almost believe it if not for the soft fluttering of his eyelashes that lie in a white line against his cheekbones.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been asleep. Morning seems far off still.

He draws his bandaged arm out from under the furs Fili had tucked close around him and looks for the hundredth time at the name that glows steadily from his wrist. The arm aches, but it no longer feels as though the pain connects to his shoulder, his head, his gut. It doesn’t burn anymore. It tingles.

He can feel Fili’s warm bare legs curled against his own, and his brother’s callous rough hand resting on his skin. It’s no different from how they always used to sleep, face to face, their warm breath and skin mingling. He used to take it for granted. He never will again.

Fili’s eyes open and he smiles at him, stretching a bit, “How long have you been awake?”

He reaches forward to feel Kili’s forehead.

Kili just smiles back at him, his hands beginning to roam across Fili’s bare chest.

“Fever’s gone,” Fili whispers, “how’s your arm?”

Kili nods, “It’s much better.”

Fili returns Kili’s smile, beginning to cotton on to what is developing, and not at all averse to it. “So you’re feeling better then?”

Kili abruptly grips Fili around the waist and lifts him deftly up and over top of him, slotting his legs between his own and rolling his hips upwards into his brother’s heat.

“Oh, so you _are_ feeling better?” he laughs and slides his arms beneath Kili’s and his hands cradle his brother’s thick hair as their lips meet. This time Kili doesn’t wait to be asked but opens immediately to Fili and the kiss deepens. His brother’s eyes are closed and he delves in, and Kili lets him, devouring the sigh that ensues.

He doesn’t want this to be just a return to their fumbling trysts that date from their childhood. Kili wants more than that and he wants it tonight.

He wraps his legs around Fili and pulls him close, pulling out of the kiss and cupping his brother’s face, his fingers lost in silvery soft hair, his heart lost in the clear wide orbs that stare down at him.

His whisper is barely audible. “Take me Fee.” They breathe together for a moment.

“Make me yours.” He traces a thumb across Fili’s lower lip.

“Kili…” Fili’s voice thrums through his rib cage, “Are you sure? That will--”

“--complete our bond, yes. I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

“And you want me to be the one to, to--”

Kili’s legs tighten and he nods, his hands sliding down Fili’s sides to rest on his hips, his thumbs caressing the hipbones.

“Yes.”

Fili has stopped moving above him. Kili can see in the moonlight that his eyes are wide, his eyebrows high on his forehead, and the touch of his fingers has slowed against his cheek, steadying into something different, hesitant, almost reverent.

“We will need oil, do you--?”

Kili is already reaching for a small wooden compartment he had built into the wall near his bed, opening a small door and extracting a vial which he places in Fili’s hand.

It has a thin layer of dust on it. The wax seal at the top is unbroken.

Fili studies it, eyes widening even more. “How long have you had this?”

“A while.”

Kili’s throat swells with emotion and he realizes when Fili grinds his forehead down against his that both of their faces are wet, the water having squeezed itself out past their lashes without them even realizing.

“ _Gajut men?_ ” he breathes hoarsely into the hot air between them.

“ _Menu gajatu_.” Fili whispers back, hugging him fiercely. “I’ve dreamed of this. _Men lananubukhs menu, Kili.”_

“Fili, _amralame_.”

They are holding each other so tightly they can barely bring their lips together, but they finally manage it, kissing with their hands and their entire bodies caressing and focusing into the warmth of tongues and lips and mouths open so wide their jaws nearly dislocate.

Fili finally disengages and sits up, holding the vial between them both where Kili can see it clearly as he breaks the seal open before setting it carefully aside, and then turns back to Kili, capturing his gaze fully with his own. He trails his right hand down Kili’s chest, further and further until he reaches the edge of Kili’s smalls, grasps the drawstring and slowly pulls it loose.

Kili is moaning and Fili hasn’t even touched him _there_ yet.

On his hands and knees now, his brother draws their undergarments off and then returns to a slow, deliberate kiss against Kili’s mouth. He leans into it, then finds himself arching his back as Fili’s lips trail more kisses down his neck, and then slowly explores Kili’s torso. Kili gasps and caresses the back of Fili’s head as he suckles gently at a nipple.

When he feels Fili stroke his shaft with the back of his fingers he cries out and rocks upwards into the touch and then clutches the furs, squeezing his eyes shut. Fili’s left arm wraps around one leg and spreads him gently apart. A warm mouth presses against the tender crease of skin where his inner thigh meets his pelvic joint and Kili moans softly again. A warm hand presses against the left side of his cock, and Kili all but comes undone as Fili licks a stripe up the right side.

Kili’s head tips back and forth as Fili continues to touch him and he reaches a hand down to cup his brother’s jaw, thumbing over a soft mustache braid. Something deeper and finer swirls between them this night than he has ever felt before. His chest aches and the feeling fills his mind and his face pulses with heat, warm salty tears trail from his eyes into the hair falling back from his temples. He does not deserve these tender ministrations. He really should be the one giving...but Fili’s hands and mouth are firmly on him and when he finally feels oil slick fingers push carefully into him Kili gives up the fight completely.

“Kili…”

Kili has no words, can only answer with choked gasps.

Fili’s face comes close to his. He can feel open mouthed kisses against his jaw. He pulls him up and claims his mouth, wanting more, wanting faster, but Fili will not be rushed. It nearly undoes him again, the deliberately slow movements of Fili’s lips and tongue tasting him, laving against the inside of his mouth as his fingers scissor inside him.

Finally the fingers pull out.

“Ready, _Amral_?”

“Yespleasenow…”

Something rustles on the floor by the bed. Neither of them notice.

And then Fili is in him. Both of their backs arch and buckle with the pleasure and newness of it,  
and when Fili begins to move Kili realizes how much Fili needed to be the one doing the taking.

More sound comes from the floor.

They move together, holding tight, Kili’s legs pulling Fili close with each driving thrust, their voices intermingling, crying, swearing, growling even during this culmination of a lifetime of moments they had always hoped would lead here but there had been so many terrifying doubts. Their wrists tingle and glow as they never have before and they are nearly sobbing with relief at the end of this long story where the ending had been gifted to them from the beginning, and they wonder if Aule is laughing somewhere, maybe even watching over them--

\--like the huge silver-grey form that stands over them now, its large wizened eyes regarding them gravely.

“ _Great polished caverns of mithril!!!!_ ”

Fili’s body leaps off of Kili and they land together gripping each other’s wrists amongst the furs, until Kili realizes the nature of the deity that faces them.

“Mahal! Mahal himself?” cries Fili.

Kili laughs softly and lays comforting hands on his brother.

“No, Fee. Not unless Mahal has a cold nose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Iscalibtra again for betaing!
> 
> Almost done with this story. I have appreciated all of your kudoes and comments so much!


	11. Day Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait. I went through a very busy time (good busy, but busy) and then went through major surgery, which ironically finally freed up some quiet time to write, although it's possible my usual style has been affected just a bit by morphine.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

_The strong mating scent filling the air of the small bedroom wakes him._

_Well. He’d been wondering why that hadn’t happened already._

_The alkaline aroma of dwarf skin, the doughy richness of arousal between the two Masters, the hitched sounds of their fevered breathing and movements above him on the straw mattress flow over his canine senses as he stretches and pops his joints in his spot on the floor._

_His ears perk though as the noises from Master begin to seem...stressed?_

_Moving into a sitting position allows him to see better._

_Interesting. Their position isn’t one he recognizes. Feguz as Pet must recognize his submission to both Masters, but he shuffles nervously and ducks his head up and down._

_Is this correct? His own Master in a position of submission?_

_His rescuer, partner, protector, hunting alpha, hearth, home and food provider and his Master and Commander lies on his back whimpering like a pup???_

_Feguz groans down in his chest and rises to all fours, approaching the bed cautiously, sniffing, eyebrows raised, hackles up. He hooks two great paws to the side of the bed and draws himself further up, his head tipped in anguished confusion at the sight of Golden Master holding his own Master down and pushing into him, forcing more sounds out of Master with each drive._

_Terribly confusing. He smells no real signs of pain or distress, but his Master sounds and looks distressed! Is this right? Golden Master has been so good to him and cared for his arm and given him calmness and contentedness Feguz has never felt from Master, but…_

_Well... he shouldn’t be hurting him!!??_

_Hey now!!! HIS Master is no PET to lie beneath another!!!_

_Hey…!!!_

\----------------------------------------------------

The huge dog emits an incongruously high pitched yelp in his position propped at his full height at the edge of the bed, his head leaning forward towards them, sniffing, whimpering, his legs shaking.

Fili regards the animal darkly.

“I’m going to kill him, Kili. I’m going to kill your dog.”

Half the reason he says it is because he can feel the laughter building in his brother and knows his darkly dry comment will set it free.

But part of him is half serious.

The laughter indeed bubbles out of Kili as he reaches forward to scratch at the dog’s muzzle, but this releases an even louder yelp from Feguz who begins to frantically inspect and lick at Kili’s hands, a multi-pitched groan coming from his throat that starts low and roams up and down in comically anguished atonal patterns.

“What in Arda is wrong with him??!”

Kili, still chuckling, slides off the bed, giving reassuring touches and words to the dog who bounces down immediately from his perch on the bed and sits, waving a desperate paw submissively at Kili.

“I’m honestly not certain, Fee. This is new for him, so...maybe he’s being protective?”

“You mean he thinks I’m _hurting_ you?!”

“Yeah, you brute.” Kili’s smile teases him through the moonlight. “I’ll take him out back so he won’t distract us. Come on Feg,” His voice pitchs up slightly, “Let’s get you away from that mean bossy dwarf, hmm?”

Kili leads the dog out of the room. Fili sighs, scooting to the edge of the bed and letting his legs dangle off to the floor.

When Kili returns Fili can’t help staring. He’s clothed only in moonlight. Even through the silvery light he can still see the flush in his brother’s cheeks, the shine in his eyes that rivals an elf’s. Unlike his dwarf brethren, Fili never really minded the Elven comparison.

He had only cared that Kili’s smile, his teasing laugh, the gentle clutch of his hands on his back when he’d been at work too long, and his fiercely bright gaze had always only ever been for him.

“I didn’t actually hurt you, did I?”

Kili moves towards him easily, kneeling in front of him, resting his hands lightly on Fili’s thighs.

“No! No...but we’ve hours ‘til dawn yet if you want to go for that.” Kili grins slyly.

Fili huffs at that and buries his fingers in dark hair, shaking his head a bit petulantly. “I did not like being interrupted.”

“Aww, come on now, Fee,” Kili strokes his hands upwards, tracing up Fili’s hips, teasing across his stomach. “This just means we get to start alllllll oooover again from the beginning…” His voice is muffled as Kili bites gently into Fili’s inner thigh.

Fili shudders and his breath hitches at the attention. But he doesn’t want Kili on his knees. He reaches under Kili’s arms and pulls him up, drawing him forward so that now Fili lies on his back with Kili over him. The fire between them still smolders. Their mouths catch at each other lazily, eyes closed, finger-tips playing over warm skin.

“ _Your turn_.” Fili whispers.

Kili’s eyes widen and there is a tremble in the hip under Fili’s hand. His lips part slightly, then close again, spreading into a small smile. There has been enough apologizing. Forward is the way, now.

For so many years it had most often been Kili who had ministered to Fili’s needs. Fili who always returned home from the forge tired, aching, never asking for Kili’s attentions but always receiving them. Gratefully.

Fili had forgotten how much he had missed that.

He closes his eyes now and drinks in the sensation of Kili’s touches. The warm pads of his brother’s fingertips feel familiar, the pathways they trace are well traveled, the muscled arm that slides under his waist, the hand that draws Fili’s leg upwards and hooks his foot against Kili’s warm neck, the soft lips and tongue that tease into his navel--his body recalls all of this. And it sends an ache into his chest. Kili touches him as though he were mithril. Fili’s throat constricts as he realizes, even as he feels the newness of Kili penetrating him, even as his breath catches at being breached for the very first time in his life, that the quality of the touch had never changed. It had always been thus.

He had always been loved. He should have trusted that.

His eyes flutter open to find Kili’s face close to his, eyes wide, anxious. Their bodies oscillate in a slow rhythm as Fili reaches his hands into Kili’s hair, cupping his face, stroking at his temples.

“Kili... _Gamut…”_

_“Imun?”_

“Mahal, yes. _Imun. Amralame, isimun._ ”   
\------------------------------------------

The morning sunlight playing across Kili’s face is what finally wakes him. He groans and pulls the furs up to shield his eyes which are not quite ready for the brightness. It is only when he reaches out to make certain Fili is equally covered that he realizes he is alone.

Disoriented, his mind replays the events of last evening. He’d been pouring arrowheads, resigned to losing everything. Then the confrontation. And then suddenly everything had been restored to him. He lifts his arm, now newly bandaged and tingling pleasantly, from the furs and remembers Fili tending to it. Something falls to the floorboards with a loud “clunk” and he sees the bottle of oil roll in a small circle.

Fili had promised he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Well, perhaps he had counted their moonlight coupling as sufficient for a farewell. Kili smiles and huffs softly, drawing a hand across his stomach at the sweet ache in his muscles, and then checking the opening in his bandage that shows the shimmering letters of Fili’s name etched there in his skin.

He pulls himself out of bed, reeling a bit as he dresses himself, as dizzy as though he were hungover.

 _Just too much melodrama for one week,_ he thinks.

Ah well. It will take Fili a few days to finish his affairs in Bree, so Kili will have to resign himself to no melodrama at all until his brother returns. Probably for the best. But a pang of loneliness hits him anyway as he opens his bedroom door to head downstairs.

It’s only then that he hears the sounds of dwarves in the kitchen.

Lots of dwarves, by the sound of it.

Another pang, this time of trepidation, shoots through Kili. _They know.  The dwarves of Ered Luin know about him and Fili and they’ve come to show their disapproval. They won’t accept us. Dis will be shamed. Thorin will send them away…_

But...no, the sounds from downstairs do not sound threatening. The sound is...sociable...even jovial.

He peaks his head around the stair to get a better view.

The response is immediate.

“Ahhh there’s the lad!”

“‘Bout time!”

“Go get ‘im Fili!”

And a wall of sound, a deep rumble of comments and encouragements amidst dozens of upturned bearded faces filled with anticipation centers on Kili and threatens to overwhelm him until suddenly Fili is there, his blue eyes bright and his warm hands steadying Kili and pulling him close. Kili focuses breathlessly on Fili, his mind full of questions.

“I didn’t plan this, I swear. They just showed up here an hour ago.”

“...plan this?”

“Um. Yes. This.”

Fili looks back down at the crowd, which Kili finally notices includes the Ur brothers, grinning from ear to ear and standing with their wives and children. Dwalin and Balin are by the fireplace, Thorin stands near them looking relaxed and uncharacteristically content, and there are many others Kili knows. Even Dori and Mara are there, smiling at Dis as she fills their mugs from the ale jar. In fact every dwarf holds a mug of ale in hand, a beverage that even dwarves would never imbibe at so early an hour of the day. As Kili and Fili look down at them they all send up a cheer and applaud encouragingly, and some with a bit of impatience, several commenting to _get on with it_ and one or two statements of _need to get back to the mine or the shop…_

Fili beams anxiously back at him. “Our declaration, Kili.”

Kili’s heart hiccups.

“Oh…!”

“Is it too much?” Fili’s hands caress him. “It doesn’t have to be today, love. I’ll send them away if you want.”

Kili doesn’t even have to ponder his answer for a second. “No! No this is all right.” His throat tightens a bit. “I’m ready for this. I want this, if you do?”

“Oh yes.” Fili’s smile sends warmth down his spine and he is grateful for Fili’s hands steadying him, because he is trembling so much he might fall. He feels Fili’s hand grasp his bandaged arm and his breath hitches as his brother brings their bare wrists together. Before raising them up, though, he whispers to Kili.

“Is it alright if I speak for us?”

Kili nods. He has no words right now in any case.

Fili turns them towards the crowd, lifting their wrists for all to see.

“My brother, Kili of the House of Durin, and I, Fili of the House of Durin, have been marked for each other since birth.” The room goes very quiet. “We have loved each other always, and we now claim each other for life, mind, body and soul, with all of you as our witnesses. We ask that you accept and honor our choice of each other and believe, as we believe, that it is a union designated and blessed by Mahal.”

The noise that fills the house when their lips finally meet is like the giant rock slide that finally reveals the mother lode. Kili barely acknowledges it. He never wants to leave his brothers’ arms again.

And it would seem to be mutual, because Fili stays close for the remainder of the morning. Always there, sometimes behind him with his arms wrapped around his middle, sometimes next to him with a warm hand at his waist. Kili can’t keep himself from grasping back at Fili’s hands and arms, from nuzzling his head against Fili’s whenever he comes close enough. It is all he can do to keep from dragging his brother back upstairs to his bedroom so he can have him all to himself again.

Kili’s impressions of the celebration that follows their declaration are scattered. Hands ruffle his hair and smack him on the back, grinning faces tell him _well done_ and _about time._ A bright look of relief fills his mother’s eyes. A quiet look of pride graces his Uncle’s face.

Grall sits down next to him near the end of the gathering, clinking his mug of ale to Kili’s and looking very sheepish at how wrong he had gotten everything the night before and how he hadn’t meant to put his foot into like that and he hoped he had not done any harm.

But it’s all right. Everything is all right. A few feet from him Fili sits on the floor with Feguz, who has rolled onto his back and whose feet point comically upwards in four different directions, deep contented grunts emitting from him as Fili rubs his belly and croons affectionately. The dog’s great tail thumps the floor in a steady rhythm.

\-----------------------------------

Fili cranes his neck around to check on Kili who has been riding behind him on the narrow cliff trail for the past hour. Misty seems well, her feet stepping with sureness and her head tossing in the wind. Kili looks equally sound.

Actually better than sound.

“Look sharp, brother.” Kili’s mouth curls and his eyes twinkle. “You can’t expect Sadie to do all the work.”

Indeed at that moment Sadie stumbles a bit as the path angles downward more steeply. Fili spins in the saddle and returns his attention forward, though truly part of his mind remains in permanent contemplation of the dwarf behind him.

“I’m fine, Fili.” warmth swells in Fili’s chest at the voice, which chastises but contains a definite undertone of affection. “You don’t have to keep checking.”

“Good, good. We’ll make camp once we reach the bottom of this hill.”

He hears a sigh behind him. “I could go further, you know. I’m not an invalid.”

Fili shakes his head. “You’re as stubborn as Uncle. You promised to do as I tell you on this trip and Oin told me to make sure we took it easy. Not too many hours of riding at a time, plenty of rest stops, plenty of water breaks. I plan to adhere to his advice, so deal with it, Kee.”

Well... it hadn’t been that much of a fight. When Kili saw him preparing to leave for Bree the day of their Declaration he had made it very clear he would be coming along too, whether Fili, Thorin and Dis gave him their blessing or not. Fili hadn’t been crazy about the idea. Kili had practically been at death’s door the night before whether he’d admit it or not and he was sure rest would be better for his brother, now his One. But he knew Kili wouldn’t let him leave without him. Not this time.

Secretly, though, he is deeply happy to have Kili with him.

Or maybe not so secretly.

“You just can’t wait to get your fingers in my hair.”

Fili humphs at that. “And don’t tell me you haven’t been staring at my arse this whole ride.”

Fili can actually hear Kili smiling. “It’s a nice arse. On a very nice saddle.”

“Right. You and my saddle can make a nice night of it then.”

Laughter rings out behind him, echoing through the canyon, mingling with the sound of the river that flows only a little way downwards from the trail they travel. Fili cannot possibly keep from turning to look, trusting Sadie to keep going forward towards the clearing he’d seen a few hundred feet further, as he practically shifts to side saddle position to be able to drink in the sight of his brother in so joyous a state.

He cannot wait to make camp.

\---------------------------------

 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gamut: Wonderful/good  
> Imun: ever  
> Isimun: everlasting  
> Amralame: my beloved
> 
>  
> 
> I had literally meant this fic to take me seven days to write, and to be much shorter than this monster it became. But all of your wonderful questions and comments influenced me to put much more into it and I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have.
> 
> Thanks again to FilikiliThorinforever for inspiring it in the first place, and my lovely beta Iscalibtra for giving me such excellent help and really really great ideas for every chapter!


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